


Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong

by RestedAbandon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, High School, Magic, POV Alternating, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 03:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20717204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RestedAbandon/pseuds/RestedAbandon
Summary: Wherein Jaime begrudgingly admits he’s attracted to Brienne and she admits that, although she loathes him, he’s not the worst human on planet Earth. And then, there’s magic, adventure, love, and eventual smut. They may also save the world. Maybe.(It’s a wild ride with ALL THE FEELS!)





	1. The Wench

This shit always happened to him. Once again, he was caught in one of Cersei’s stupid schemes. She wanted him to do something, and no matter how nonsensical or ill-advised or sometimes, and this was the worst for him, mean-spirited, he’d go ahead and do it. He did it because she was his twin. She was his other half. He loved her. But if he was really being honest with himself, he’d have to admit, that deep down he really did it because he was scared of her. She’d always been the stronger one. The smarter one. She could hurt him, but selfishly, only chose not to do so in exchange for unconditional and unquestioning loyalty. And Jaime was nothing if not loyal.

All he really had to do was find the wench and deliver a message. However, he knew that whatever this message meant, it was intended to be cruel, and it was going to be poorly received. He knew full well the point of the message would be to hurt Brienne and it was niggling at his conscience.

_Freaking ungainly, beastly, stupidly kind, and honorable Brienne._ Brienne was the nicest person he’d ever met and he was going to intentionally hurt her, for Cersei. He’d never really been in a position like this before and he wasn’t quite sure how to manage it.

He could feel a slight tremor starting in his hands. Maybe, he could just tell Cersei he hadn’t found her. That was dumb though. Cersei would never believe him, of course, because the wench never missed a practice. The wench was reliable and hardworking to a fault. He knew exactly where he would find her. Everyone knew that at 3:00 pm Brienne would be on the track, and at 3:30 pm she would be in the weight room, and at 4:00 pm she would be in the pool doing laps before the MMA club started sparring at 4:30 pm.

He could feel a cold sweat breaking out under his arms and behind his knees. Gods, he was so pathetic. He should just tell Cersei to fuck off and deliver her own messages. He should, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t because she’d call him weak. She’d tell him he’s useless. She’d accuse him of cowardice. Then, to beat a dead horse, she’d threaten him, and pout, and she wouldn’t let up until she’d gotten her way. This is how she’d always been. He had quickly learned that it was best to stay on her good side and easier to just acquiesce, when possible, which for him, was always.

Best to just get on with it. He searched the track until he saw her blonde head and long powerful limbs lunging down the track. The closer he got to her, the more the knot in his stomach tightened. He couldn’t understand why this was bothering him so much. Morality had never reared it’s ugly head to nag at him like this before and it was a very uncomfortable feeling. He could still turn around. She hadn’t seen him. She was entirely focused. He could see her broad shoulders and muscular biceps gleaming with sweat. Her body moved like a well-oiled machine. The wench was wearing just her sports bra today, given that it was about 4,000 degrees outside. She also wore her tiniest bicycle shorts. Her abs were rock hard and her legs, well her legs went on for days. He had never really noticed that her legs were FUCKING AMAZING! Suddenly, the knot in his stomach turned molten and dropped down low until it became an ache in his balls. The sensation caught him by surprise and he actually tripped. He tripped so hard he had to work fast to steady himself or he’d be eating asphalt.

That caught Brienne’s eye and she slowed down to stare at him. Her eyes went wide before she jogged over.

“What’s Up?” Why did she have to sound so hostile? She didn’t even know what he was going to say yet.

“Good day to you as well, wench.”

She rolled her eyes and pressed her lips tight. Her face was flushed red from exertion and sweat was just pouring down her head and off her body. Her gray sports bra was absolutely drenched, and her tiny shorts had started to pool sweat in places ...suddenly, he had a strong urge to put his mouth on her, and he could almost imagine running his tongue along...

“LANNISTER! What the hell do you want? I’ve gotta finish my run!”

He could feel his slight boner get even harder at the threat of violence in her voice. He had never seen her like this and her hostility only served to awaken something dangerous and predatory inside of him. He could feel himself grinning, and to his happy surprise, he wasn’t nervous anymore. He was hungry.

_Let’s do this then, wench_. “Whoa. Language wench. Language.”

“My name is Brienne...”

“Listen, wench, I just came to give you a message. Cersei wanted me to tell you that she ran into Hyle, and he sends his regards.”

Her eyes widened and she looked stricken, like she’d been slapped. He’d never noticed how clear and blue her eyes were. Her eyes were extraordinary. And they were filled with horror and shame, just for an instant, before they became hard and murderous. Her face flushed crimson and he could see her muscles tensing, “Fuck Hyle. Fuck Cersei. And FUCK. YOU. TOO. I knew you were a spoiled pretty boy without an ounce of honor, but I didn’t think you were a straight-up asshole. Guess I was wrong.” Her breathing hitched a little and her fury was like a death sentence etched in stone. “I’m tired. I’m so very tired. The next jerk that crosses my path will regret it. Tell Hyle I’m not afraid of him.”

Instantly, Jaime felt sick again. Something horrible had happened with this Hyle and it was bad enough to send usually reserved and restrained Brienne into a fury of venomous words and balled up fists. “Who’s Hyle? Look, Brienne, I don’t know why you’re so mad at me or what this Hyle did to you but I’m just...”

“You’re just what? Doing your sister’s dirty work? Do you really think that absolves you of blame? Do you really think I believe you don’t know what this is about? Just because I’m big, and tall, and awkward, and UGLY doesn’t mean your band of merry socialites and jerk jocks can treat me like I’m garbage. That you can humiliate me and harass me for pure sport. I’m done, you hear me? Done. The next douche bag that comes up to me, or even so much as mentions that fucking bet, is getting WASTED! The only reason I haven’t clobbered Hyle, Ron, and the rest of them is because I’m here on scholarship...”

“Bet? What bet?”

“Right. Ok. Like you don’t know. You were in on it. You and Cersei probably started it. Just tell me why? WHY?” She was visibly shaking and a small tremor had started working it’s way into her voice.

“Brienne, honest to gods, I have no idea what the hell you are talk...”

She stomped her foot on the ground and started coming closer. She came so close he thought she was going to hit him but instead, she stopped mere inches from his face and stared him down. Her eyes were piercing and angry, but there was a hint of pain there too. He could feel her hot breath on his lips. “STOP. JUST STOP IT. I know you know. I know that’s why you’ve been nice to me lately. I know that’s why you teamed up to spar with me last week. It’s all a joke to you assholes. Be nice to Brienne the Beauty. Make her think you like her. Then, when she least expects it, crush her like an insect. But you can’t. You won’t. I won’t let you.” She pushed her way past him and he instinctively grabbed onto her forearm. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know what this was all about. All he knew is that she was wrong. He had to tell her that she was wrong. He might be a jerk but he wasn’t what she thought he was.

“Brienne, I ...” and then, she hit him. She punched him right in the mouth. He staggered back with the force of it.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me ever again.” He definitely heard her voice crack that time and saw her chin wobble. Her eyes were bright and glistening with unshed tears. She turned and ran, like the Night King was chasing her, straight into the gym.

His mouth hurt like all seven hells and he could taste copper on his tongue. He felt dazed, hurt, angry, and something else. The throb in his crotch hit him like lightening. He felt desire. He was attracted to Brienne bloody Tarth. Not just attracted, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to pin her down and fuck her. Right now, right here, if he could.

There was something seriously wrong with him. She had just accused him of being a spoiled, dishonorable, lying asshole, punched him in the mouth, and probably (definitely) hated his guts, and all he could think about was the way her legs and ass looked in those shorts. The way her eyes, so blue and sparkling with fury, had delved down deep, right into his soul. The way she could probably (definitely) crush him in a fight, if she’d only deem him worthy enough to allow it, right now. The way her legs would feel wrapped around his waist and how her strong thighs could probably (definitely) hold him down in a vice grip while he fucked her ....

_Jaime, Jaime, you fucking pathetic lunatic. You fucked up before anything could even get started_.

Must be some kind of new record low for him. He sighed, wiped his bloody mouth, and vowed to fix it. He had to try and fix it.


	2. The Bet

Brienne should have known. She had partly already guessed, but she should have known the truth of it all along. She was smarter than this. Life had been unkind to her from a very early age and she had learned some difficult lessons about how cruel, petty, and idiotic people could be and yet, she continued to let people get to her. Jaime, she had wanted to believe, was not like the rest of them. He was handsome, rich, and infuriatingly charming, but despite all of this, she had let herself believe someone like him would want to be friends with someone like her. Not only had she let him fool her, but she had allowed him to get under her skin, and now, she had done something she had told herself she would never do again. She had lost her temper and resorted to violence.

Why did he have to grin at her like that? What had possesed him to try and keep up the charade? Why on Earth did he think he could touch her after he had conspired to humiliate and hurt her? She could feel herself getting tense again. Fucking Jaime, fucking golden-boy, Lannister was not worth her getting thrown out of school. She needed to calm down. She needed to shower.

Her clothes were sticking to her, and for the first time since their confrontation, she reliazed how ridiculous and disgusting she must look. Drenched in sweat and red like a tomato was not a good look for her. Well, she didn't have ANY good looks, but most of the time she tried to at least appear clean and half-way presentable. No wonder he was practically laughing in her face. He probably thought she was a big, ugly, pig.

Meanwhile, he had looked devastingly handsome today, which of course, was nothing new. He had worn his MMA uniform shorts low on his hips and she had caught a peek at his smooth, hard, abs and the beginnings of deliciously cut pelvic bones. His green unifrom shirt was snug against his chest and shoulders and the cut of the sleeves showed off his biceps to perfection. He had probably chosen to wear the green shirt today because he knew how it accentuated his green eyes. _Conceited bastard_. His hair was golden, silky, and long enough now to curl into his chiseled god-like chin. And his mouth. She couldn't forget how his beautiful lips had curled into that predatory smile. He probably thought she was easy prey. Everyone had always underestimated her. Just because she chose not to beat people into a pulp, didn't mean she couldn't. Well, she had shown him that he could not mess with her. She was not afraid of him, or Hyle, or his cunt sister. No, it certainly was not fear that was coursing through her veins. She wanted to clobber the living day-lights out of him, but she also wanted to run her hands under his shirt, and trace the plains of his stomach until she got to his sexy pelvic bones, and then...ok. _Shower. Now._

Just as she had stripped out of her shirt and shorts she heard someone come into the locker room. She quickly jumped into the shower stall and turned on the tap. She wasn't in the mood to see anyone right now. The cold water immidiately started to cool her off and allowed her brain to reset. She was taking deep calming breaths when she thought she heard someone calling to her.

"Wench? Wench, are you in here? I know you’re in here. I need to talk to you. I need to explain. I'll just wait for you out here." She couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. He wouldn't dare come in here.

"Listen, wen...Brienne. I don't know anything about this bet. I don't know Hyle. I barely know Ron. I don't even know if Cersei had anything to do with the bet, whatever it's about. But if she does, I'm really sorry you think _I_ have something to do with it. She doesn't tell me EVERYTHING you know. I know she can be a major bitch but "

"SHUT UP! GO AWAY!" She could feel her blood starting to boil again at the mention of that bitch's name. He was making it really hard for her to calm down.

"Not until we talk about this. I need you to understand that I...I think you're cool. _I_ would never intentionally hurt you. "

Pfftt. Was he for real right now? "And yet _you_ JUST DID! Can you get out of here?! You are not supposed to be in here."

"I didn't know about the bet, ok. I'm sorry. Why won't you believe me?" He sounded a little wounded and this gave her pause. What right did he have to sound wounded? What was he playing at? Why wouldn't he just go away and leave her alone? Did he enjoy toying with her? He WAS Cersei's twin. Cersei loved nothing more than toying with people, it made her feel powerful, and Cersei got off on feeling powerful.

"You and Cersei are pathetic. Don't you have anything better to do right now, Lannister?" She was practically growling at him but she also sounded tired._ I am_ _tired._ All of the fight was going out of her and she could feel her walls coming back up. She was nobody's play thing. If he wanted to torment someone, he would have to look elsewhere.

"You can't stay in there forever. I'm not going anywhere until you listen to what I have to say" She could hear the arrogant certainty in his voice. He was used to getting his way. He was used to people giving him everything he wanted. She could feel her own stubborn pride stiffening her back and she was about to tell him she would stay in that shower until the seven hells froze over if it meant that she would win this fight but, then she realized how idiotic and childish that would sound. She wasn't playing this game because she was sure that that's what this was, a game. This was all a game and he was an experienced player.

She turned off the shower and quickly dragged the towel through her hair and over her goose-livered skin. She wrapped the towel around herself and yanked the shower curtain open, roughly. _Calm down Brienne. Be cool_. It wasn't until the curtain opened, and he looked up from the bench at her with wide eyes and a smirk plastered to the side of his gorgeous mouth, that she realized that her towel was riding up dangerously close to her pubic area, and that it was in no way an adequate covering.

"Turn around Lannister. I need to get to my locker." She could feel her face flushing when his eyes began to roam from her head down to her toes and then, very slowly, back up again.

He cleared his throat and squirmed in his seat a little. "Glad you came out to play, Wench."

Bad choice of words. She could feel the walls solidifying around her heart. She wasn't playing. He could go straight to those frozen seven hells for all she cared. She was ice. She was a glacier. She was an immovable and impenetrable force of nature. Brienne gathered up all of her courage and strode right by him to her locker.

"So, you're not even going to talk to me now?" His voice was tight and sharp but it didn't sound like he was mocking her any more.

Cooly she replied, "There's nothing more to say."

"Tell me about the bet. What did Hyle do?" She could feel that he had gotten up behind her and was moving closer. She was ice. She was a calm artic sea.

"Just stop, Lannister. You won that round, but I told you that I am done playing. You need to get out of here before I call security." She could feel the warmth of his body behind her.

"Ok. I will leave, but I just want you to know that I am sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. You are right that I should not do Cersei's dirty work. It doesn't absolve me. It never will. But I promise that I had nothing to do with that bet. If you would only tell me what they did, maybe I can help somehow? Maybe I can make this up to you?" He was pleading with her? His voice sounded soft. She could tell he was trying to be gentle, like he was trying not to antagonize or frighten her, like she was a wild and unpredictable animal he was trying to corral and trap. She could hear something else in his voice too. It almost sounded husky. It was that sound that managed to put a chink in her wall, and through that chink she could feel him worming his way in and sliding right down her neck, and into her chest. Her heartbeat picked up a little and she took a shaky breath.

"Fuck off, pretty boy."

"So you think I'm pretty? That's twice now you've called me..."

That made her spin around in shock. He was too good at this. He had found her weakness and was using a sledge hammer to break in. She was not prepared for how close he was standing, nor to how the force of her body would affect the precarious placement of her towel. Before she could react fast enough, she felt it slip down and pool in a warm thump at her feet.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and she could hear his breath hitch.

"Don't you dare mock me!"

"I'm sorry. That was underhanded. I'm trying to appologize. Let's call a truce"

"You need trust to have a truce."

"I trust you."

She stood up as straight as her pride would allow. She didn't care that she was standing here naked in front of this god-like man. She was nobody's fool. Not anymore. "Well, good for you. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call security."

For a minute she swore he was going to touch her, the way he seemed to lean in a bit, and the way his hand twichted at his side. But then, he shook his head a little and seemed to think better of it. Maybe, his mouth was still sore. His lips were swollen and the way his tongue flicked over the slowly scabbing seam of his wound was stirring something deep down in her belly. Hatred had never made her ache like this before. She was confused. She wasn't used to having a man this beautiful this close to her naked body before and it was sending weird signals to her addled brain. "Just tell me if Hyle hurt you, Brienne."

"He certainly thought he could. He tried. But men like you have been trying to hurt me all of my life, and all of my life, I've been pounding them into the dirt." She could feel him stiffen and his eyes bore into hers.

"There are no men like me. Only me. I'll find out what happened. I'll make it up to you. I swear it." And he looked so earnest that she almost believed him.

"Whatever." She turned her back on him. She turned her back on all of it. She was winter. She was a blizzard. She was the Night King himself. No one could hurt her. Never again.

She heard him sigh and retreat. _Good_. "Go crawl back to your sister Lannister, you deserve each other."


	3. Cersei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is reborn. Born by fire.

Go crawl back to your sister Lannister, you deserve each other.

That’s all he kept hearing playing over and over again in his head. Is that what he was doing now? Was he crawling back to his sister? The shame he felt was nothing compared to the anger, bordering on rage, that he was feeling about what Cersei had made him do. No, that was wrong. She hadn’t MADE him do anything. He had chosen to do it. He always had chosen to do her bidding and he was getting really sick of it. He was sick of her and her stupid games. He was sick of himself.

When had his sister become so cruel? Why hadn’t he tried to stop her before? Was he really that intimidated by her or was it just easier to do what she wanted to maintain the peace, to not sever their bond? But was this really peace? Did he really want to be bonded to someone like her? If he allowed it, went along with it, practically sanctioned it, didn’t that make him worse than her in many ways? And why hadn’t he asked himself these questions before?

Brienne was causing him to ask himself questions that he had dared not ask before. She had made him feel things today that he had never felt, and the searing intensity of it had left him raw and vulnerable. It was like being scalded, and this baptism by fire had lifted him out of a dense fog, only to find that he was in a strange wood crawling with white walkers.

Maybe he was a white walker. Only dead things walk around hurting others without questioning the motive. Only dead things went away inside and ignored the world around them. Only dead things allowed others to make decisions for them. He HAD BEEN a dead thing, something in a deep sleep for many years, but he was awake now.

He needed to find Cersei. She would be with Taena and Margery at cheer practice. She was going to tell him what she knew about this damn bet.

Sure enough, he saw her at the far end of the field by the bleachers. She was laughing that fake laugh of hers and he suddenly wanted to slap the shit out of her. “Cersei, a word.”

She looked up at him and that glance betrayed that she was a little worried about the barely contained rage in his voice but then, she covered it quickly with a scoff and a wave of her hand. “We have practice dear brother.”

“It can wait. I delivered your message.” He knew that would get her attention.

She ambled over to him and leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, what happened?” He could tell she was enjoying this immensely.

“Well, she accused me and you of being in on some bet, cursed us, and then, she punched me in the mouth.”

She stepped back and took a good look at his face. Then, she reached up to touch his mouth. “Oh, that beast! She’s barely human! Why the hell…”

“Oh, get off it Cers. You sent me over there because you knew exactly how she would react. You KNEW she was going to be offended. I know you did. The question I have is why? Why would you want to offend and hurt Brienne Tarth? What could she have possibly done to you? She’s the nicest and least popular person I know. She in no way is a threat to you. So, why the fuck would you go out of your way to hurt her? No, why the fuck would you send ME out of MY way to hurt her? Also, what the fuck is this bet about? It sounds like Hyle did something horrible to Brienne and that others were also in on it. Were YOU in on it? WHAT IS THIS BET?” He felt himself getting increasingly angry with each ensuing query and he was all-out shouting by the end of it. The other girls on the field turned around to look at them.

“Shhhh. Keep your voice down you idiot. Why are you defending that stupid cow? She assaulted you! You should have her kicked out of school for that. I don’t even understand why you’ve been so nice to her lately. It’s embarrassing Jaime. You can’t be seen with her like that. People will talk.” She looked so haughty and petulant. He couldn’t believe how conceited she had become. She was embarrassed for him because she didn’t want him to be seen with Brienne? He should be the one embarrassed to be seen with her, to be related to her.

Then, he played back what Cersei had just said, to himself. She wasn’t just trying to protect his so- called reputation. She was jealous. She was jealous that someone else was playing with her possessions. That’s what he was to her. That’s what he had always been to her, a possession. She didn’t care about his feelings or what the consequences of these games might do to him. It hit him suddenly like a ton of bricks, and the weight of it crushed him, it entombed him like he was under the ruins of The Red Keep itself.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that hurting him might have been part of the game all along. She knew he liked spending time with Brienne at practice. She knew that he had wanted to be friends with the wench. Maybe, she was very perceptive and far more clever than he could ever be, deep down she knew that he was also attracted to Brienne and she couldn’t stand that reality. She had wanted to destroy their friendship. His sister would hurt Brienne and HIM in order to keep him by her side. Cersei never shared her toys with anyone. Jaime was her toy, and she would rather toss him in the fire than allow Brienne to play.

He was angry. However, the pain he felt at this realization far outweighed any animosity he had been feeling. His chest physically hurt. His sister was a monster. “You are a fucking bitch. Tell me about the bet! What do you know? WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“Calm the fuck down Jaime. You are such a child sometimes. I’m going back to my squad. We’ll talk later.” She turned her back on him and pranced away. She didn’t even notice. Cersei, his twin, the one who was supposed to know him better than anyone else in the world, didn’t even notice that she had ripped his heart to shreds and left him bleeding out on a football field.

Jaime had never felt so alone.


	4. Tyrion

Tyrion was lounging on the chaise in the living room with a book when Jaime came into the house. He glanced up from his reading to give him a “Hey” and then, did a double take when he noticed Jaime’s dejected face.

“What’s up bro? You look like your dog just got taken out back and shot.”

Jaime didn’t even know where to begin. This day had been monumentally devastating in a myriad of ways and he was beyond words. He made a groaning noise that he was sure was the sound wounded animals made.

“Actually, I think you were the one taken out back and shot. What in the seven hells happened?” Tyrion came and sat next to him on the couch sensing that his brother needed comfort and support.

“Cersei is a bitch.” Jaime said matter-of-factly.

Tyrion scoffed at that and practically snorted. “And water is wet. What else is new?”

“Yeah, but she’s a monster Tyrion. I never really allowed myself to see that.”

“Nah bro, you saw it. You always knew what she was and you loved her anyway.” Cersei had been terribly cruel to Tyrion his entire life. His big brother had always defended him against her attacks but still managed to stick by Cersei’s side, which had been a matter of contention between the two brothers for many years. However, he still had some sympathy for his older brother, it couldn’t be easy to finally admit that you’d been conspiring with the devil. “What did she do this time?”

“She wanted me to give Brienne a message. I told Brienne that Hyle sent his regards.”

Tyrion made a hissing sound like he had just been burnt.

“Wait, does everyone know about this damn bet except for me?” Jaime was exceedingly annoyed with himself for being an idiot, and more so with Tyrion for keeping him in the dark.

“Well, I heard it through the grape vine from Varys, and I didn’t have any real concrete evidence, until yesterday, about what happened. It seems that our sister enjoys torturing young, uncommonly tall, ugly, virginal, girls or maybe, just ones that catch the notice of her partner-in-crime…”

Jaime was losing his temper again. “First of all, I am not her partner-in-crime. Second of all, don’t call the wench ugly. Third of all, why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? You know what? I really don’t give a flying fuck why you didn’t tell me before, just get on with it. I’m tired of asking this question and I really need to know what the hell Brienne, and probably everyone else, thinks I conspired to accomplish.”

“Dude, I knew you liked the girl but I didn’t know you LIKED her liked her. She is quite singular and you were always overly fond of broken things.” At Jaime’s sounds of incredulity and impatience Tyrion waved his hands “Fine. Cersei felt the need to loudly speculate that Brienne was likely still a virgin at a house party a few weeks ago. She joked that it would be ‘SO FUNNY’ if someone went out with Brienne and then recorded them making out, to you know, ‘See what an ugly, beastly, cow in heat looks like’. Cersei apparently has some Little Finger account hive mind thing going on where people started taking bets as to who would get Brienne to make out with them first. Then, it escalated into people betting to see who could take her virginity.”

Through gritted teeth Jaime asked, “How much?”

“Ummm, last I saw it was up to 2,000 golden dragons.”

Jaime practically choked on his tongue, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? These rich assholes really have nothing better to spend their money on than heinous pranks against young, innocent, girls?”

“You haven’t heard the worst part yet. So, all of these guys, inspired by competitive assholery and serious coin, asked Brienne out, but she turned them all down. Ron and Hyle had the biggest pots in the bet. Ron never had a chance because Brienne isn’t into jerk-offs, well except maybe for you. But Hyle is slighty more intelligent and far more suave. He actually got Brienne to agree to go out with him. He had taken his time wooing the girl and she had no reason to question his interest in her. Seeing his chances greatly diminished, Ron got desperate and decided to go hard or go home. He bought a red rose and presented it to Brienne during Bio sometime last week. She turned him down, again, and he got so insulted that he called her a ‘Big Ugly Cow’ and threw the rose at her with a ‘Here you go, don’t let the last petal fall or you’ll stay a beast forever, Brienne the Beauty!’ in front of everyone in class. Apparently, Hyle comforted Brienne that night at his house and plied her with booze. He underestimated how much alcohol she could metabolize though, or how far she was willing to go, because when he started taking off her shirt she pushed him away, and when he got a little more aggressive she shoved him down on the ground and ran. The only reason I know about all of this is because Hyle posted the video online yesterday trying to claim that, technically, he had won the bet for actually making out with Brienne. He tried to claim half the pot. Not sure if he got paid or…”

“How did all of this go down and I had no clue? Who is this Hyle anyway? Never heard of him.”

“Brother, you live in your own MMA and Cersei centric world. You really need to get out more and join the rest of us in the land of the living. Hyle just transferred to our school this year but he’s in the dude-bro club for sure. Cersei didn’t share with you about this for obvious reasons.”

“Which are?” he grunted exasperatedly.

“Which are …that you obviously like Brienne and she didn’t want you intervening on her behalf. Also, she wanted Brienne to think you were in on it to draw a big wedge between you guys because Cersei didn’t want to lose her most prized possession. But I think you figured all of that out already.” Tyrion was giving him a knowing look. “The question now is ‘What are you going to do about all of this?’

Jaime’s shoulders slumped. His head was pounding. “I have no fucking clue. Brienne won’t talk to me. She hates me. Cersei will feign innocence and continue being Cersei. I can go punch Ron and Hyle in the face but I don’t know if that will help. Maybe I can just drink myself silly until graduation?”

Tyrion gave him a piercing look “Brother, dearest kind-hearted but morally ambiguous brother, have you ever stopped to ask yourself ‘What does Jaime Lannister want?’ because it seems to me that you’ve enjoyed riding Cersei’s evil-queen cape tails throughout life so you wouldn’t have to ask yourself deep-probing soul searching questions. What are you so afraid will happen if you think for yourself? If you go for something you really want? If you show interest in something that’s not MMA? If you allow yourself to care about things that aren’t genetically related to you?”

This conversation was sending Jaime deeper into a dark void where his core values and personality should reside. “I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid that without Cersei I’m nothing. She’s my twin. She’s my other half. She is a part of me. And she’s always been stronger, smarter, and more driven…”

“So, you just let her subsume your entire existence? Swallow you up until you were nothing? You are wrong, by the way. You are not _nothing_ without her. You are loyal, and brave, and you fight like hell for things you believe in, when you decide to believe in them. Why do you think you like Brienne?” He was staring Jaime down again with a curious expression on his face.

“Uhhhh, because I do. I like hanging out with her. It feels natural. It feels right.”

“And it feels right because she’s?...”

He was gonna say “incredibly attractive and infuriatingly stubborn” but those answers didn’t seem quite right. So he said what was beating in his heart “because she’s good. She’s good and I feel good when I am with her.”

“Yes, she IS good. And a big part of her _goodness_ derives itself from kindness. She’s kind to everyone. She’s not a push-over type of kind, but she is thoughtful, considerate, helpful, and compassionate to those in need. She’s like a shining knight in tales of old. Brienne is virtuously kind. And so are you, when you are not being Cersei’s stooge.”

Jaime felt tears pooling in his eyes and a deep ache in his chest. Tyrion thought he was kind. He had always thought of himself as a jerk, but maybe, that’s why it hurt so much when Brienne had accused him of being cruel, of participating in, no, of orchestrating, the bet; He didn’t want the wench to think he was cruel. _He_ didn’t want to be cruel. Jaime wanted to be what his brother thought he was, he wanted to be kind. He could feel the tears rolling down his face. He could be different. He didn’t have to be what Cersei wanted him to be. He didn’t have to be like her.

The more he thought about it the more he realized that he had never been anything like her, not really. She had hijacked his body, and mind, like a parasite, and he had been stupid enough to allow it. When their mother had died, he had felt lost, and she was the closest thing to comfort he could find. So, he had clung to her, even when she had become cold and cruel, he continued to cling to her. He’d hidden his true thoughts and feelings, even from himself, to avoid the cognitive dissonance and loneliness he thought he would feel if he’d accessed them.

However, he had been wrong. She had never desired to comfort him. Cersei had used him to comfort herself, and had never given him anything in return. His sister had no idea what love was and Jaime had foolishly believed that it would be enough for him to love twice as much, to love for the both of them.

The dying animal sounds, he realized, were coming from him. He was sobbing and Tyrion was hugging him and looking very concerned. “It’s ok Jaime. I love you brother.” Tyrion was patting his head like a small boy. “You always protected and loved me. You were the only one. Father and Cersei turned to the dark side when mother died, but you never did. You deserve better. You deserve love too.”

He felt so tired. His soul was weary. “I think I am going to go lie down.”

The bed was beckoning to him. Burying himself into his copious pile of pillows, he allowed himself to think of all the time he had lost. Vague memories of his mother’s warm arms encircling him when he was tiny and scared lessened the ache in his chest. “What do I want?”, he asked himself as he drifted off to sleep.

That night he dreamed of Brienne.


	5. The Dream

_It was so dark and cold. In the distance screams could be heard. Something was watching him. He could feel it in the back of his neck, like a shard of ice was sliding down from the nape, straight into his spine. _

_Where was he?_

_A torch appeared in the distance and he thought he could hear someone calling his name, “Jaime! Jaime, this way…” but the voice was getting fainter as if moving away from him._

_The torch was the only light in this all-consuming darkness. He became frantic not to let it get out of sight. “Stop! I’m coming! STOP!” _

_The floor was shaking and he was thrown off balance. A cold wall was there to greet him and his forehead smashed into it, hard._

_This is a cave. He was in a cave. _

_The screams outside became very shrill and it sent a jolt of fear into his heart. He heard a loud “BOOM” and the cave shook so hard that rocks started tumbling down all around him._

_“Jaime? Jaime, where are you?” It was a woman’s voice._

_“I’m here! STOP!” He started running faster, although the cave was still rocking so hard, it was like running down the corridors of a ship at sea._

_“Jaime?” The woman’s voice was coming towards him now. “Jaime?” She sounded frantic._

_“Yes. It’s me. I’m here”. His voice was getting hoarse from shouting._

_The torch light got brighter and brighter until it illuminated a tall figure. Then, the light revealed a straw-blonde haired woman with sapphire colored eyes that glowed with something he couldn’t quite recognize, something he had never seen before, when they spotted him._

_“Brienne!” His heart gave a little jolt of happiness and relief._

_He ran to grab hold of her hand, like an anchor, in this turbulent sea of darkness. It was then, he noticed that she was naked and a flash of desire coursed through him._

_“Brienne.” He could hear that his voice had gotten low and gruff._

_They were on a bed of silken sheets and he was on top of her. Her skin was hot and he could feel sticky sweat sliding in the space between their flesh. The longing stretched downward from below his breastbone into his stomach, and then lower, into his pelvic area, until it settled with a spasm that made his cock twitch and harden. He felt a desperate need to grind into her to relieve some of the ache._

_Brienne moaned, and he desperately sought her mouth to taste the sound of it on his lips. Her tongue was hot and searching. As he deepened the kiss, she moaned again, and he felt a growl forming deep in his throat. He was struck with a desire to devour her. When she started to respond by thrusting up to meet his hips, he searched her eyes for permission, and what he saw there made his heart thump loudly in his chest._

_“Brienne, I want you. Please.” His voice sounded low and needy._

_“Yes.”, she whispered. Her eyes were so bright. There was blazing desire there, but also, a hint of apprehension. It was the wariness that made him remember what he had done._

_“I’m sorry, Brienne. I’m so sorry.”_

_Her eyes began to glisten and she closed them, shutting him out._

_“Please, you must believe me. I never meant to hurt you.”_

_She shook her head. “Words are wind. Show me.”_

_“How? Please Brienne, show me how.”_

_They were in a deep wood and wolves howled all around them. The night was cold and the wind was whipping snow into their eyes. Brienne was still naked and shivering beside him. He opened his coat and scooped her up into his arms. They heard a loud “BOOM” in the distance._

_“They’re coming! We’re not ready. We must stop them.” She was trembling, but when he looked into her eyes, all he saw was determination.“We can’t fail. We have to save them, all of them.”_

_Claws were ripping into his flesh. He heard Brienne screaming but he couldn’t see her. It was too dark. It was too cold. He could feel himself fading, but he couldn’t fail her. He couldn’t fail them._

_“BRIENNE! I’M COMING, BRIENNE! HOLD ON! I’M COMING FOR YOU!”_


	6. Truce

The following few days were a whirlwind of gossip and upheaval within the student body of Casterly Rock High, especially among those in the senior class. Rumor had it that Hyle had been suspended from school for a whole month. Ron was suspended for two weeks and was kicked off of the football team. Cersei, and several other students, were made to attend a meeting with the principal and the school’s guidance counselor, and were giving a stern warning. The whole school had to attend an assembly about cyber bullying, and the seniors had an additional assembly, regarding the importance of consent and the perils of underage drinking. Brienne was asked to come in and speak to the principal and the school therapist. She reassured everyone that she was ok and did not want to press charges against Hyle.

As high school injustice would have it, Brienne was now being booed in the halls. Everyone blamed her for the direction the incident had taken them and assumed that she had been the one to contact the school about the video and infamous online bet. She felt people constantly snickering behind her back and saw them giving her nasty looks in class.

During lunch that day, the buzz picked up when Cersei walked in and started talking loudly about “that big stupid cow” and saying, “she’s so pathetic”. Once again, the consensus was that Brienne must have been the one to “snitch”.

Sansa sat in her usual spot next to Brienne and Robb at their lunch table. “Are you ok Bri? These assholes have some nerve blaming you. You SHOULD have been the one to tell on them. What they did to you was just terrible. I still can’t believe Hyle would do something like that.”

“I should have pounded that douche into the ground, but Bri wouldn’t let me.” Robb snarled with fists clenched.

“Robb, he’s not worth it. None of those jerks are worth it. Sansa, it’s ok. They’re just mad that someone exposed them. They’ll get over it soon enough.” Brienne wasn’t sure if she believed they would get over it. She was already something of a social pariah, due to her unfortunate appearance and intimidating height. It didn’t sound like school-spirit, miss popularity, Cersei, was very happy about being called out for one of her many conniving schemes. It would take a while for Cersei to move past the blow to her ego and social status. Cersei lived for the opportunity to prey on the weak, and she would surely, not relinquish this opportunity too quickly.

Brienne looked over to where Jaime was sitting with Addam. He wasn’t at his usual table with Cersei and her crew. In fact, he was glaring over at his old table and appeared to be giving Cersei, in particular, dirty looks. Cersei glanced over at him and a smirk, that looked more like a sneer, flashed across her face before she stated, very loudly, “That ugly beast should thank us for giving her her ten minutes of internet fame instead of trying to get us all suspended.”

Jaime shot to his feet and shouted, “IT WAS ME! I TURNED YOU ALL IN! YOU ASSHOLES SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO BRIENNE? WHAT HAS SHE EVER DONE TO DESERVE THIS? FUCK YOU ALL, YOU STUPID CUNTS!!!”

At that, many of the jocks sitting at Cersei’s table stood up. Jaime stared them down, raised both of his arms, and shrugged, mouthing, “WHAT?” Addam put his hand on Jaime’s right shoulder and whispered in his ear. When Jaime wouldn’t budge, Addam physically grabbed Jaime’s arm, and pulled him towards the exit. Brienne thought she heard him say, “Come on. Let’s go. Don’t waste your time with these losers”.

Brienne couldn’t believe what her eyes had just seen. Jaime and Cersei were fighting. Jaime had confronted Cersei in front of at least half of the senior class. He had admitted to turning them all in, and most shocking of all, he had actually defended her. If someone had told her that Jaime was really a lion dressed in a human disguise, she would not have been more surprised. _Was this real life?_

The first bell rang and it startled Brienne back into the present moment. She got up with every intention of going to Bio but instead, she found her legs taking her out of the cafeteria exit, and into the courtyard. It wasn’t until she found herself scanning the courtyard, in search of him, that she realized what she was doing.

He was sitting on a bench, with his head in his hands, and his elbows on his knees. She approached him very slowly, and when he still didn’t look up, she slipped into the bench next to him. “I told you to go away Addam. I’m fine. I just need a minute before I can go back in there.”

Her throat had gone dry. So when she said, “Hey”, it sounded more like a croak.

Jaime lifted his head up, slowly, and leaned back on the bench. He took a deep breath before responding, “Hey.”

“Is it true? It was you?” She hated the way her voice sounded so shaky.

“Yup.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Time seemed to stretch on forever in the land of teenage awkwardness.

“I guess I should say thank you. So, thank you.” The thank you sounded strangled and contrite.

“Whoa. Don’t hurt yourself there wench. It’s fine. You can keep on hating me. I don’t deserve your gratitude.” He let his head hang back and rest on the bench as he leaned down further. He casually tilted his head towards her and gave her his best smirk. The corners of one side of his mouth pulled up, making the dimple in his high cheek bones stand out. He crossed his long legs at the ankles, and crossed his arms across his chest, which made his pectoral muscles and biceps bulge. It looked like he was posing for Westerosi Men’s magazine.

Her hands started to get sweaty and she was annoyed with herself for allowing him to affect her this way. “Are you mocking me again, Lannister? I’m trying to apologize for accusing you of being in on the bet.”

“Really? I didn’t hear the words ‘I’m sorry’. You’re gonna have to speak more loudly if you want me to hear them, wench.” He was definitely laughing at her now. His dazzling green eyes twinkled with mischief.

“My name is Brienne. How many times do I have to tell you that, Lannister? Call me Brienne.”

He leaned in towards her and said, “Jaime. MY name is Jaime.”

“Ok, Jaime. I was wrong about you, and I’m sorry that I accused you of being in on the bet. And thank you, for going against your sister, and defending me in there.”

“Don’t go falling in love with me Brienne.” She heard the mirth in his words.

“Ugh. Why do you have to be such a jerk about this?”

“I never said I wasn’t a jerk. I’m trying to be better, but I’m afraid there are limits to my potential for virtue.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t have any aspirations about you redeeming your virtue.”

“Ouch, you wound me, wench. I thought we could be friends but...”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jaime sat up and looked at her with a hurt expression on his face. His brows were creased and a small frown was forming on his face, “Why not?”

“Well, I still don’t trust you, for starters. Secondly, guys like you don’t usually, willingly, hang out with girls like me. It would upset the natural order of the universe, or something.”

He looked genuinely befuddled now. “What the hell are you talking about? Guys like me? What does that mean?”

Brienne flapped her hands in his general direction. “You look like that and….” Then, she flapped them up and down her body. “I look like this. People would stare. They’d laugh and mock us. We don’t fit. A black hole would open up and swallow the entire school to reset the balance of nature.”

She thought she heard him snort a little before saying, “You’re utterly mistaken. Besides, who gives a shit? We can hang out with whoever we want.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to hang out with you.”

He scowled at her a little before his lips twitched in amusement. His moods were more mercurial than a squirrel on hallucinogens. “Alright. Let me prove that I can be a worthy friend. I know I don’t deserve the chance, but I’m too selfish not to ask for one anyway. I like you, wench. You are an awesome MMA sparring partner, and you make me laugh. You’re nice and you can teach me to be a better person. Think of it like a charity case. You are doing ME the favor of helping me straighten my shit out, by painstakingly pointing out all the errors of my ways. In return, I get to tease you, and be an annoying idiot. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Brienne laughed in spite of herself. “You really _are_ an idiot.”

“See? We are having so much fun already! Listen, I am taking this fencing class that is SUPER AMAZE BALLS! I know you would love it. It’s held every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 6-7 p.m so it wouldn’t interfere with MMA. It’s open enrollment and I can totally get you in as my guest to try it out. If you don’t like it, you can quit. Come with me tomorrow! I can be your sparring partner there as well and I’ll teach you what I know. I’m pretty good. COME ON! You know you want to….Do it! Do it! Do it!” His enthusiasm was endearing and exhausting.

“Alright, alright. I will do it if you promise to shut up. Seven hells!”

Jaime gave her the biggest and brightest smile she had ever seen on his face. It was blinding, like looking directly at the sun. “Cool! I know you are going to love it!” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. She felt a jolt of electricity go through her where his fingers had been.

Brienne jumped up off the bench. “I should get to class. I’m sure we’re late. See you later today for practice.”

“And tomorrow for fencing, right? Give me your number and I will text you the location.” Jaime pulled out his phone and looked at her expectantly.

She hesitated a moment before taking his phone and typing in her contact information. She was turning away to head back into the school building, when she heard him jog up beside her. “So, are you going to wear your tiny shorts to practice today? I enjoy seeing them on you. Off of you as well, if memory serves.”

Brienne felt a blush creep down her face and into her chest. Her blood ran hot. Her stomach muscles clenched. “Don’t remind me. Ugh. Most humiliating experience of my life”

“You seemed pretty confident to me, wench. I was the one that walked out of there with a busted lip and a wounded ego. Besides, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Those legs of yours alone…”

Brienne huffed in exasperation. “Jaime, if you don’t shut up, right now, I swear by all of the old gods, and the new, that I will hit you again. I know what I look like and would like not to revisit that particular incident ever again. See you later!”

Jaime grinned, “Fine. As you wish. See you later, wench”.

* * *

Later that day at practice Brienne did NOT wear her tiny shorts. She wore her baggiest blue MMA t-shirt and her matching yoga pants. When she walked into the gym Jaime gave her his signature, award winning, smile but the look in his eyes was incongruent. He looked like a lion stalking, and about to pounce on, his prey.

When they sparred that day he showed his usual intensity and their sparring moves felt familiar, but the air between them seemed to be charged with a spark of electricity. He was very quick on his feet, but she was able to get a few jabs and kicks in. He, on the other hand, appeared to be determined to take her down. At one point, he managed to kick her legs from underneath her, and brought her down to the mat. He pinned her with his right leg on her pelvis, and his left leg, straddled the left side of her body. He held her arms above her head and his chest was flush against hers. He was panting, heavily, and the sweat between their bodies, was sticky and hot.

“Do you yield, wench?”

“You wish!” She pushed against him with all of her might, and used her pelvis and strong legs, for leverage. She managed to get him to bring his right leg down, but he quickly, tossed it to the right side of her body. Now, both of his legs were straddling her, and his pelvis, was flush against hers. Almost every part of their bodies was touching. The friction that was being created by his groin pushing against hers, was making her stomach swoop wildly. Her chest brushing up against his, was making her nipples tighten, in a way that sent a tingle between her legs.

Jaime suddenly stiffened and jumped up, “Fine. But we both know I won that one.”

There was a long moment wherein he squirmed a bit, rearranged his clothing, shuffled his feet, and then, looked down at her with flushed cheeks and a heated expression. He held out his hand to her. “Truce?”

The way he emphasized the word, and the serious tone of his voice, made her think he was referring to more than just the match. “Truce”, she said, before placing her hand in his.

As they were walking out of the gym, side by side, in comfortable silence, Brienne felt a warmth in the companionship between them that made her nervous. She enjoyed spending time with him but why did he want to spend time with her? It just didn’t make sense. The world’s most gorgeous guys did not, willing, spend time with big, awkward, girls. It was also universally acknowledged that friendship between two such people was unlikely, and her past experiences with men made her even more inclined to be suspicious, and believe whole-heartedly in that fact. His arm was brushing up against hers as they walked, sending delicious waves of longing deep into her core.

Friendship is what he wanted, or so he said. But it just didn’t make sense. She needed it to make sense. “Jaime, why do you want to be my friend? Surely, you can make friends, very easily, with people in your social circle…”

“Not this shit again. I already told you why.” His words fell flat.

“Tell me again.” She needed it to make sense.

He huffed. “You’re cool and I enjoy your company. Spending time with you is the best part of my day. You call me on my shit. And…” Uncertainty was plainly written on his face.

“And?”

He shrugged his shoulders, and looked into her eyes, with a certain inexplicable intensity, “I dreamed of you.”


	7. The Prophecy

It was Brienne’s 18th birthday today and she had been very secretive about it. There were two types of people in the world; those who liked celebrating their birthdays, and those that didn’t. Jaime knew Brienne well enough now to ascertain that she was the kind who, definitely, did not.

Several weeks had passed and she had become more comfortable around him. However, she still visibly shut down whenever he showed affection towards her, or attempted to touch her in any way, which he did, often. He was always looking for excuses to grab her hand, or brush a lock of hair out of her face, or give her an impromptu hug. He just liked her so darn much. It was nearly impossible for him to keep his hands to himself when he was around her.

Jaime wasn’t sure what the wench thought about all of this attention he was dispensing, but she usually swatted him away, like an annoying nat. He assumed she interpreted his behavior as friendly flirting or gentle teasing. He hoped that she was merely mistakenly diminishing his feelings, and not, that her annoyance was a true indication of hers. He was constantly looking for ways to prove to her that he liked her. However, perhaps, she was only interested in being friends. He could live with friendship, if that was all she was willing to give him. No matter how much he tried to keep things casual, he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her, all the time, or constantly looking for ways to make her smile. Maybe, if he could prove to her how much he genuinely liked her, that this was not some elaborate prank, or simply a source of amusement for him, she would decide to let him stay in her life.

He’d been wracking his brain for days, since he’d discovered from Sansa that Brienne’s birthday was coming up, trying to think of an appropriate birthday surprise. The internet was a helpful tool. But what could he purchase that she wouldn’t refuse? She was so stubbornly anti-presents. He was sighing loudly, into his cell phone, when Tyrion walked by.

“Those pop-up ads are annoying. Or is that you can’t get past level 300 in Lemon Tart Crush?”

“No. I want to get something nice for Brienne’s birthday today, but she is JUST SO DIFFICULT! I was thinking of taking her somewhere cool, rather than buying her something. Doing something she can’t overtly reject. I’m running out of ideas, and I want to head over to the bakery, before I go to pick her up for school”.

Tyrion whistled loudly. “Wooowww. You’ve got it bad brother. Who could have guessed, that it would be ‘Brienne the Beauty’, who would steal my big brother’s heart out of the claws of our cunning sister?”

“Shut up. And, don’t call her that. Help me think. Time is of the essence!”

Books were hastily shoved into his backpack. Jaime was quickly tying the laces of his sneakers when Tyrion said, “I think she might like the Lannisport Fair. It opened up last weekend and it will be in town for another week. Us freaks do like carnivals!” Bouncing on his toes, he physically braced himself for the cushion that sailed his way.

“That’s a pretty darn good suggestion. Friends go to fairs together. She won’t think it’s too weird for us to go to something like that. It might work. You are a clever little guy, for a 15 year old.”

Tyrion poured some Baileys into his coffee. “I drink, and I know things. It’s what I do.”

* * *

They had never gone to school together because Brienne always left for school way earlier than he did. So, when Jaime showed up at her house with a cup of Starkbucks coffee, and her favorite protein breakfast bowl, Brienne was caught completely off guard by his big hug and kiss on the cheek. “Happy Birthday Wench!”

She rolled her eyes at him, but he could see the corners of her mouth pulling up. “Who told you? It was Sansa wasn’t it?”

“Yup. That red-head is mighty useful for garnering information. Brought you breakfast!” He said, looking very proud of himself.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

“Can I give you a ride?” He gestured towards his red Nissan GT-R.

“That’s a real subtle, totally normal, exceedingly expensive, and super flashy sports car you have there, Jaime.” She was rolling her eyes again, but she also looked a little nervous.

“I will drive sensibly, wench. Don’t worry.”

He took her hand and gently pulled her towards the car. “Come on. I came all this way. Live a little.”

He swiftly opened her car door, and she carefully, folded her long limbs into the seat. He closed the door, and ran to get in, before she could change her mind.

Once he was in the car, and they had pulled onto the road, he glanced over at her. She was sipping her coffee and putting small forkfuls of egg into her mouth.

She glanced over at him, shyly, and blushed.

“Not hungry?”

“Uh, thank you so much for the breakfast. I really appreciate it.”

“But you hate it? You do shakes now instead of protein bowls, or something?”

“No, it’s not that. I didn’t want to say anything, but my dad made me a big birthday breakfast before he went to work this morning.” She looked down into her lap.

“Oh, you should have said. It’s ok. Maybe you can save it for lunch or something. Speaking of your dad, what does he do?”

“He teaches nautical engineering at Casterly U. My grandfather owned a fleet of ships on Tarth. That’s where we are from originally. We moved here after my mother and brother died in a sailing accident when I was eleven. I miss them so much, especially on holidays and birthdays. My mom used to go all out decorating and celebrating. Dad isn’t very festive. I think it reminds him of mom and Galladon too much. He makes me a big birthday breakfast and buys me a birthday cupcake, to celebrate every year, but that’s usually the extent of it. I’ve kind of learned not to expect much on my birthday. I’m not very good at accepting accolades, in any case. I just wish dad didn’t feel so guilty about it.” The tears swam in her eyes until two big drops slowly rolled down her left cheek.

Jaime leaned over and wiped them, gently, with the back of his hand. He felt her lean into his touch a little, before pulling away. “My mom died when I was six. I barely remember her. Tyrion was two years old. Mom had cancer when she was pregnant with him but she chose not to undergo chemo while pregnant. By the time he was born, the cancer had spread considerably, and she fought it valiantly for two years, before it took her. I miss her terribly. You would have liked her. She was a lot like you in some ways. She was very kind and loving.”

The car felt warm. She was looking at him so tenderly that the last word got caught in his throat. The unshed tears glistened in her eyes and made them sparkle in the sunlight. A man could drown in them, and die happy. He didn’t know how long they had been gazing at each other, but it was long enough that he had to remind himself to tear his eyes away, and look at the road.

“So, I was thinking, since you don’t have anything planned for your birthday” _keep it nice and smooth Jaime_ “the Lannisport Fair is in town and it might be fun to go. Just bop around and check out the booths. We could skip practice today and head over early, eat junk food, and get our fortunes told. Cersei used to love to get her fortune told when we were little. There’s a witch there that, supposedly, is the real deal. Or, we could go into the fun house and ride the Ferris wheel a hundred times. It’s entirely up to you, but it might be fun.”

Brienne squirmed in her seat. “Well, it sounds like a lot of fun, but Sansa and Robb wanted to hang out at their house. Their older cousin, Jon, and adopted brother, Theon, are home from college for the Weirwood Offering Celebration this weekend. The Night of the Fallen is coming up, and they usually light candles, and place their offerings to the fallen ancestors this weekend. They believe that the offerings are absorbed by the weirwoods, and if proven worthy, some of their ancestors will be allowed to walk the Earth on the Night of the Fallen. Soooo, we were gonna hang out at their house, drink, and make the offerings tonight.”

“Oh, well, how long does that usually take? Maybe they want to come with us to the fair for a bit, beforehand. You all can head over there whenever, to drink and make magic dolls, or whatever it is you usually do.” He sounded a little annoyed, but she could tell he wasn’t too upset at his plans being altered, by the gentle mocking tone he put into his words.

Her face brightened, considerably. “Yeah! That sounds like a lot of fun! I think all of us going to the fair together would be amazing!”

Relief and disappoint fought for purchase of his thoughts. He decided to see this as a victory. Showing her a good time for her birthday was the objective. He was just given the opportunity to achieve it.

* * *

Jaime agreed to meet them in the parking lot early that evening. When the mini-van pulled up Sansa, Robb, Brienne, and two older guys he assumed to be Jon and Theon, jumped out. There was also a small but wiry looking red-head with them. After the introductions were made, Jaime discovered that her name was Ygritte, and she was Jon’s girlfriend, whom had come home with him for the weekend.

The guys all appeared to be very friendly towards Brienne, especially Robb. Robb grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her over to play ring toss. “Bri! Bri! Remember how I won you that huge teddy bear when we were 14 that time in Winterfell? Maybe I can win you another one for your birthday!”

She was laughing loudly and freely, a sound that he had never heard before, but felt truer to her nature than her usual reserved laughter. She’d been holding back on him. This was the real Brienne, and he was only sad that he had to wait for her friend Robb, to reveal it to him. “Yeah, I remember. You also spent like twenty-five gold dragons trying to get it. You could have bought me that teddy bear at the store for ten”.

“That’s not the point! The point is you wanted that bear and I MADE IT HAPPEN!” He was dancing around and jumped on her back. “Forward noble steed, YOUR knight shall gift you a bear on this night of your birth!”

Jaime’s irritation was growing by the word and he felt his left eye twitch. His stomach dropped, when Robb climbed on her back, and he had a sudden urge to kick him from behind.

Sansa had a smirk on her face but she must have taken pity on him, or wanted to avoid testosterone-fueled violence on Brienne’s birthday, because she skipped up beside him and said, “We’ve all been friends since Brienne moved to Casterly. Robb’s like her brother. He’s a little over-protective at times, but you don’t have to worry otherwise.” Jaime willed himself to relax and he gave Sansa an appreciative nod.

The aforementioned information, didn’t manage to stop Jaime from challenging Robb at ring toss, flip the toad, darts, and finally, in a grand conclusion to their pissing contest, at the War Hammer. Jaime won “a bear for the maiden fair”, “a blue rose for the sapphire wench”, and a giant golden lion he promptly named “the Lion of Lannister”, after which, Brienne had to insist they put an end to their games and get something to eat.

While they were sitting and eating Pentoshi kebobs, Jaime spotted “Lady Melisandre’s Fortunes” booth. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to steal the wench away for some alone time. “Wench, wanna get our fortune’s told?”

“Uh, sure. Don’t think I really believe in that stuff, but I’ll try it.”

Jaime grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the booth. “I don’t believe in it at all but it’s kind of a tradition.”

“Between you and Cersei.” Her voice was tight and monotone.

“That’s the past. I want to keep the fun and erase the pain. So, help me preserve the fun of my youth, where I can, Wench.”

She nodded, and he dragged her into the large cave-like tent.

Inside it was dark, except for the glow of about fifty candles, and several strings of red, glowing, holiday lights. There was a large table covered in a silken, blood-red, table cloth. A large, metal, bowl filled with thick, murky, liquid rested in the middle of it. The room was cold and inexplicably drafty. The wind made the candles flicker. No one appeared to be inside. Brienne looked at Jaime, whom shrugged, and searched the tent for an answer. He saw two rocks on a small table near the entrance. There was a sign that read “Click these stones together to summon the Red Witch”.

Once the stones had been clicked, they saw a figure move towards them, from the shadows at the corner of the tent. She must have been standing there the entire time, waiting. She wore a blood-red, cloaked, hood over her dark-red hair. Her light-blue eyes flashed, and appeared to be staring past them, into some void.

“Welcome.” She said with a silky, seductive, tone she must use for all of her male clients, especially ones as good looking as Jaime. She gestured toward the chairs. “Please do sit down.”

The Red Witch made a show of slowly, pulling down the hood on her red cloak, and unclasping it. She draped it on the back of her chair, and touched the enormous ruby necklace, encircling her milky-white neck. “I sense great power here. I must warn you that this reading may reveal things that will alter your perceptions of life, forever. If this frightens you, this is your chance to leave. However, your fates are sealed. Not knowing will not change them.”

Jaime looked at Brienne with a smile, and whispered in her ear, sending a small shiver down her spine, “This lady is good”. Then, much louder, he said, “Ok. How much will these changed perceptions cost us?”

Melisandre lifted her arms and extended them out towards them, palms up. “I serve the Lord of Light. He’s the one who sets his price. He is not interested in coin. I will charge you 10 dragons each, because I need food to live, but the Lord of Light demands a blood sacrifice. Leave the coins on the table and extend your right hands out to me”

Jaime was standing up to leave, “Listen lady, we will give you the twenty gold dragons, no problem, but we will not be shedding any blood in the this tent tonight. Come on, Brienne.”

“Is a great lion, like yourself, really afraid of me pricking you with this needle? It is not a large price, only a couple of drops of blood from each of you. And you, maiden from the sapphire isles, are you afraid of shedding a little blood? You have the heart of a great warrior.”

Jaime held his hand out to Brienne and nodded towards the door, “We don’t have to do this, Wench. Her parlor tricks are impressive, but I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing, especially not on your birthday.”

The wind rustled outside, and the candles flickered, but instead of fading out, they grew brighter, and a raspy male voice sighed, “Brienne”.

Brienne was looking directly into the flame of the candle in front of her and squinting her eyes. “It’s ok, Jaime. I’m not afraid. Let’s do it.”

Jaime sat back down, grasped her right hand, and started rubbing small tantalizing circles on her wrist. “If you’re sure.”

Brienne nodded her consent and they both looked intently at The Red Witch, until she finally, spoke again. “Give me your right hands.” Jaime and Brienne extended their right hands out to her. Melisandre grabbed a large golden pin and pricked both of their index fingers. She dragged each of their hands over the bowl filled with viscous, murky, liquid, at the center of the table, and squeezed a few drops of blood, from both of them, into it. Then, she closed her eyes and encircled the base of the bowl with both of her hands. She started chanting, “Elo Misas. Elo Misas. Vendagare. Vendagare!”

The liquid ignited into bright, orange, flames that danced and crackled with an other-worldly power. Melisandre opened her eyes and stared into the flames. The light of the flames danced, wildly, in her eyes. “The Lord of Light beckons you and is calling you to service. The Night is dark, and full of terrors. A great darkness threatens our world. It is searching for something it lost a long time ago. It’s extending its reach with long, sharp, cold, claws from a great distance. The warrior maiden and the golden lion will be reborn. When the night is darkest, the fate of the world will balance on the edge of a blade, and the spirit of Azor Ahai himself will guide them to vanquish the darkness, once again. A portal has been opened, that should have been sealed, and forgotten. Great evil stirs. Old, dark, magic has been awakened. Only the light can save us.”

The flames vanished, as if they had never existed. The temperature in the room dropped, and Melisandre’s voice got very deep and full, as if an older, much larger, male was speaking through her “YOU CANNOT FAIL! YOU MUST SAVE THEM, ALL OF THEM!”

Echoes from Jaime’s dream started coming back to him, and the remembrance of Brienne saying to him those exact words, sent a shock of adrenaline coursing throughout his entire body. Brienne noticed the change in his posture and turned to him. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are we done here? We should go. Our friends are waiting for us outside.”

The Red Witch smiled, and her body, had relaxed back into the chair. Her voice appeared to be back to normal as well, when she uttered, “Go with the Light. May it illuminate the way for you, always, even in the darkest of places”.

Once they were outside, they looked at each other, both still a little stunned, and said at the same, “What the fuck was that?”

“No idea wench. Last time I had my fortune told, it was by an old crone in a shabby tent, posing as a witch; although Cersei seemed to believe in her prophetic powers. That old crone merely spat into a pot and played with some tea leaves. This is some next level charlatry.”

Brienne’s face looked even paler than usual and she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Jaime, I saw something in the flames. It was a man, but also, not human. I’m sure he was the one who called my name in there. I don’t know how I know, but I just do.”

“Hey. Hey. Look at me. Fancy parlor tricks. A mummer’s farce. That’s all that was. She probably has some projectors set up somewhere in there and a voice recorder. There’s probably a fan blowing, and she pushes a button under the bowl, to ignite the fluid. Although, I do like the idea of you being a maiden warrior. You’d look rad on a horse with a giant fuck-off sword.“ He gave her a salacious wink and scooped her up into a hug. “Let’s go on the Ferris Wheel a few dozen times. There’s a great view from up there.”

The Red Witch watched them intently, from the shadows. She clutched the ruby in her golden necklace and it glowed bright red. “It has begun” she whispered to herself, as she pulled on her cloak. The darkness enveloped her form as she retreated back into the woods from whence she was born.


	8. The Night of the Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jaime "has a way with words" Lannister would say, writing this chapter felt "Super Amaze Balls"!

The Weirwood Offering Ceremony had taken place two weeks ago, but Brienne was still shaken by the experience. She had travelled up to the Riverlands for the weekend, with the entire Stark clan, to stay at one of their many vacation homes. From there, they had taken a day trip to the wooded area, near The Twins Hotel. The Twins Hotel had been built to commemorate the ruins, wherein the victorious battle of The Twins had taken place. As legend told, that had been where the Great Battle between the Night King’s horde of zombies, and the heroic ancestors, was fought, almost exactly 2,000 years ago. According to mythic tomes, these great warriors saved the world from plunging into an eternal night, and being shrouded in an endless winter, at the hands of the Night King. Many of the details of that battle had been lost in the recesses of time. However, those that still followed the Old Gods believed that in order to keep the darkness at bay, the fallen had to be commemorated every year with offerings, and allowed to reap their reward; the chance for their spirits to walk the Earth for one night.

Brienne had emblazoned her offering wreath with the crest of house Tarth, much as she had always done, with one notable exception. Since Jaime stated his desire to attend the Night of the Fallen festivities with them this year, she had decided to add his family crest to her wreath, and to make it all come together more cohesively, she had threaded the edges of the wreathe with red and blue ribbons. Then, she had hung tiny, silver, crescent moons, as well as golden lions and sunbursts, from the bottom, so that they would tinkle softly in the wind.

These offerings had been taken to the weirwoods in the Riverlands’ forest. Brienne had found herself straying off deeper into the woods, away from the Stark family, to leave her offering, presumably as an excuse to stretch her legs after spending so many hours in their van. As she was coming upon a small clearing in the wood, she saw an enormous weirwood tree. The closer she got to the tree, she realized, that there was someone sat underneath it. Brienne had called out to the young man in the wheelchair, but he was looking past her, seemingly, at nothing. She was about to turn around, and return to the others, when he looked at her with the strangest expression, as if he recognized her. It was then, that she noticed he resembled Bran Stark a great deal, although he was definitely older. Perhaps, he was a cousin. The thing that had left her shaken, and she hadn’t found the nerve to tell anyone, was that when she approached the tree to speak to him he had said, “Yes, right here Brienne” and vanished. She then, had hastily thrown down her offering and run away with her heart beating erratically.

* * *

Since that day, really for some time now, but that day’s events had solidified the feeling for her, Brienne had started to question whether she was going nuts. She had finally convinced herself, that it had been a dream, that she must have fallen asleep on her walk, and dreamt it all.

That’s what she kept telling herself when she woke up from her nap in Jaime’s car, in front of The Twins Hotel. They had decided to stay at the hotel because it was hosting a large 2,000 year anniversary party in the ballroom that evening, which would then be followed by a walk through the woods with the ancestors at midnight, and the Red Comet viewing at a quarter past midnight.

“Hope you got your rest wench, it’s gonna be a lonnnngggg night.” Jaime smiled and winked.

“You should have let me drive more. You’re going to be exhausted!”

“I’m good.” He said suppressing a yawn. “I’m just happy you let me tag along with you guys. It’s not every year I get to celebrate my birthday this epically!”

He was smirking at her and actually laughed out loud when she jumped up from her seat. “WHAT?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re not the only one that can keep secrets.” He grinned at her conspiratorially. Then, he sighed. “I always hated celebrating my birthday. For the past 18 years my father has insisted on making it a stuffy family affair, complete with a catered sit-down dinner. Cersei always added to the torture by insisting we celebrate by going to clubs, and having me carry her home when she got blackout drunk. This year, by sneaking off with you and the Stark crew, I can spend it with people I actually want to be around, and possibly, have some fun.” He looked absolutely giddy about the possibilities.

“So, wait, you are turning 19 this year?” Brienne said a little confused by the mathematical calculations.

“Yeah, at midnight. Cersei and I missed a lot of school when our mother got very sick, was put on Hospice, and then, after she passed away. We ended up having to repeat the year to make up for all the material we had missed.” He mentally shook himself out of his sad reverie and guffawed, “Soooo, all this time you assumed that I was 17? You didn’t realize you were sharing company with a full-blown man?” He flexed his arm muscles and puffed out his chest.

Brienne slapped his arm and laughed as carefree as she had that night at the carnival. “Oh, stop it! You are SUCH AN IDIOT!” They were both laughing when they got out of the car and were still laughing when they walked into the lobby of the The Twins Hotel.

* * *

The observance of the holiday had evolved over the years. In order to keep the tradition going, someone, about 500 years ago, had decided that revelers should wear period appropriate costumes in order to give the religious holiday a more festive feel.

Hence, Brienne found herself wearing a light blue tunic, a black wide leather belt, light brown leather breeches, and dark brown knee-high boots. She felt much more comfortable wearing men’s attire from that period, since the dresses made her look like a drag queen. Copious amounts of gel had finally managed to tame her rather unruly locks. She’d chosen to slick her hair back, and let it hang free, behind her ears. It was really the only period appropriate look that would work with her boyishly short haircut. Sansa had insisted that she put on some eyeliner, a little silver eyeshadow, and a touch of lightly tinted lip gloss. Brienne wouldn’t allow for more makeup, in order to avoid the drag queen effect, and she definitely did not want to emphasize her enormous lips, and frequently ruddy cheeks, even the slightest bit.

She had to admit, that the eyeliner did make her eyes stand out, and Jaime had complimented them frequently enough for her to start to believe that, perhaps, they were her best feature, which of course, was not saying much, considering that all of her other features and body parts were so mismatched and unattractive. There was nothing at all to be done about her crooked, broken nose, nor her unfeminine jaw line.

With a flick of her wrists, she quickly tugged on her tunic to straighten it, and gave up on the rest. _You can’t truss up a pig._

There was a knock on her door and she let out a slow exhale to loosen the knot in her stomach, before opening it.

The sight that greeted her practically bowled her over. She felt star struck and speechless. Jaime was wearing a form fitting leather jacket, with brass clasps along the front, and a white silky tunic underneath, just barely visible through the V in the cut of the jacket’s neckline. His trim waist was encircled by a fine leather belt, that had been tied and knotted, on his left hip. He wore snug, dark brown, fine wool pants, that enhanced the strong muscles in his thighs and calves. His golden, silky hair was tussled loosely, yet somehow artfully, and it just barely grazed his finely chiseled jaw. He had decided not to shave and sported about a week’s worth of stubble on his face. It was those flashing green eyes, sweeping up and down her body, in a none-to-subtle manner, that caused the heat to travel from the tips of her ears, down into her neck. She could feel herself burning like a heat lamp under his gaze.

“Wow, wench, you look stunning! Blue is a very good color on you, my lady!” and with that, he presented to her the crook of his arm, for her to loop her arm through.

“What do you think of the threads? Do I pass?” He was leaning into her and smiling up into her face, beatifically.

Brienne booped his nose with her left index finger, “You look like you belong in a ‘Knights of the Seven Kingdoms’ reference book. It’s a good look on you.”

“Did you just give me a compliment? So, all this time, all I had to do was dress up like a 2,000 year old dead guy in order to impress you? I’m never taking this off. Do you think I can do MMA matches in this jacket?”

Brienne had never seen him in such a good mood, and she felt very light, and giddy, herself. “Oh piss off. You know you always look good.” She turned her face away from him so he wouldn’t see the truth of how insanely attractive she found him.

He tickled her waist with his free hand. “Oh no, don’t stop there. I’ve had to wait MONTHS to hear a kind word about myself come out of your mouth.”

Brienne was giggling breathlessly, “And you’ll never hear another if you don’t stop fishing for compliments!”

The entire Stark clan was seated in the lobby, and they all glanced up in unison, when they saw Brienne and Jaime descending the staircase, arm-in-arm, laughing, and smiling at each other like two besotted fools.

Brienne was about to pull her arm out of Jaime’s, feeling self-conscious under their scrutiny, but Jaime held on fast to it. “I’ll escort you to our table, my lady.”

Brienne wasn’t sure where all of this chivalry was coming from, perhaps it was the costume, but she couldn’t help but be charmed by it, and whenever he said, “My lady”, she felt a tingle at the nape of her neck.

The ballroom was positively stunning, draped in lush curtains, and illuminated by hundreds of candelabras set throughout the room, and placed atop each table. The evening commenced with a seven course feast, moved into commemorative speeches, and was planned to end at midnight, after the dance.

Brienne was returning from the restroom when she was accosted by an extremely broad-shouldered, and heavily-bearded, red-headed man. “Well, hello there. Aren’t you a tall drink of water? What’s your name?” He was wiggling his eyebrows in a comically maniacal way. Is this what he thought passed for acceptable, and successful, flirting techniques?

She was in a gracious mood and did not want to be rude. However, she also did not want to give this man any notions that she was at all interested in his advances. So, as blandly and innocently as she could, she replied, “Hi. I’m Brienne.”

Apparently, he was not only unschooled in the proper ways to court a woman, but he was also the least perceptive man in Westeros. He was in no way deterred by her reply, on the contrary, it appeared that the only encouragement he needed from a potential mate was sentience, and perhaps, not even that. “My name's Tormund. Dance with me!”, he entreated forcefully.

Just as he was about to grab her hand, Jaime smoothly glided between them, and said, “The lady has promised me the next dance. And the next. And, unfortunately for you, she’s gonna be dancing with me the entire night. Pardon us.”

Jaime clutched her right hand, and ran his palm smoothly across hers, until she reflexively opened it wide so he could twine his fingers with hers. He pulled her gently, but firmly, towards the dance floor. When they got there, Brienne panicked.

“Jaime, I can’t dance.” She looked like a fawn caught in headlights.

“Sure you can. I’ve sparred with you many times. It’s not much different. Just hold on and let me lead.”

She stood an inch taller than him, but when he placed her arms around his neck, and ran his hands slowly down her sides, so that she could feel his fingers tracing the outline of her ribs as they grazed by, sending a shudder through her, and finally arriving at her hips, where he flexed his fingers until they were gripping each of her hip bones and pressing into them so he could pull her tightly against his hips, it all felt deliciously right. They fit together.

She dared to look into his half hooded eyes and the hunger she saw there made her bold. She found the courage, in all of her shyness, to seep her fingers into his impossibly soft hair, and she carded through the soft curls behind his ears. His breathing hitched, and she felt a shiver go through him, as her heart lurched in response.

He started tugging on her hips, moving them side-to-side, so that they were swaying gently to the music. He leaned in, and she could feel his breath in her ear, sending molten heat into her lower belly. “You really do look amazing tonight, wench.”

She felt both his hands slide from her hips to meet at her lower back, where he started to make small circles with the pads of his thumbs. He pulled her flush against his body, so her cheek was resting against his. His mouth was still by her ear, and she could feel his lips grazing it as he said, “You owe me a birthday present.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that, but somehow, she knew that what he wanted could not be put into a box, or wrapped in a ribbon.

The combination of his hot breath and lips grazing her earlobe was making it hard for her to think straight. The smell of his hair and beard, cinnamon, and something musky, like brandy, was intoxicating. The stubble on his jaw was tickling her lips, making them tingle. All of her senses were heightened, and she was hyper aware of how his pelvis was pressing into hers.

“Shall I claim it?” His voice was low and husky, and Brienne could not deny that it was dripping with desire.

“Yes.” She barely recognized her own voice, it was so low, deep, and unabashedly, wanton.

In the corner of her eye, she could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, as he pressed his lips to the patch of skin just underneath her earlobe. She shivered. Her knees weakened and started to buckle.

He grasped her waist tighter, and pulled her weight into him, as he planted open-mouthed kisses down her neck, and into the juncture between her shoulder and collarbone. He suckled gently, at the skin there, and she could feel his tongue lapping at it. “You taste really sweet here. I wonder how the rest of you tastes.”

Brienne could not suppress a soft moan, which he claimed with his mouth. His lips were soft, and his tongue, felt amazing against hers. She gave another moan as he deepened the kiss. A muffled growl was rumbling in his throat.

Brienne felt like she was being devoured, and dreamily thought, she could choose no better way to die. She plunged into the kiss with abandon.

When they were both panting for air, Jaime pulled back with soft, sweet, kisses and looked into her eyes. “Thank you, wench. That was the best birthday gift anyone has ever given me”. His seductive smile promised her things she couldn’t quite grasp.

The clock struck midnight. As the grandfather clock chimed loudly, the artificial lights came on, temporarily blinding everyone in the room. Brienne felt like she had woken up from a trance. All of her bravado from earlier disappeared. She felt incredibly insecure, and shy, in Jaime’s presence. Surely, he could see, in this brightly lit reality, how manly and ugly she looked next to all of these beautiful women in gorgeous gowns. She could never be what he really wanted. He would wake up from his daze soon too, and realize what a beast she was. He would have to acknowledge how mismatched they were, compared to other couples. She couldn’t lose his friendship. She couldn’t do this to herself. This was a mistake. They were friends. That’s all they should ever be.

Jaime was giving her a quizzical look. “What’s wrong Brienne?”

“The weirwoods. We have to go.” She was barely aware of how frightened she sounded. She saw Sansa leaving with Arya and her brothers, as everyone else was also heading out of the ballroom, towards the lobby. “I promised Sansa I would walk the woods with her. See you later tonight, Jaime.” And she bolted out of the room, like a coward. This was self-preservation, she told herself.

She heard Jaime curse under his breath, “Shit. Fuck. Brienne! Stop!”

Now, she felt herself full on running towards the lobby. She didn’t stop when she got there. Brienne kept on running, as the tears in her eyes threatened to blind her, once more. She ran past the crowd and straight into the woods.

Behind her she could hear people calling her name but she just kept on running. Where was she going? _The weirwood. The offering_. She had to find the weirwood.

She pulled her cell phone out from underneath her leather belt and turned on the flashlight feature. The light of her cellphone illuminated her path, until she came upon the familiar clearing.

In the distance, the crowd gasped in unison. This made her look back, and when she saw nothing, instinct told her to look up into the night sky. A red comet with a long tail was trailing red stardust slowly across the cloudless sky above them.

Then, the large weirwood tree, just ahead of her in the clearing, the one that held her offering, started emitting a soft glow. The air around it appeared to shimmer. Every fiber of her being told her to run away, but something was pulling her closer to it, as if by some magnetic force. As she approached she could feel the air get colder and seemed to undulate all around her. Her skin was tingling from head to toe. A strange wooshing sound, like waves crashing against the shore, crescendoed in her ears as she approached the tree.

Jaime was calling her from somewhere in the clearing. His voice was getting closer with every step she took.

“Brienne! Brienne, stop. Don’t go any closer to it! Don’t touch it!”

Then, her hearing got completely muffled, like she was underwater. The pressure in her head became very uncomfortable, and she felt like she was being suffocated. She reached out her hand, as her vision started to go, in order to anchor herself to something, and she felt the tree bark scrape against her palm. A searing pain scorched all of her nerve endings.

_This must be what being electrocuted feels like._

Just when she thought the pain would stop her heart, it was gone. She felt like she was floating in a void. Actually, she didn’t feel anything at all. She was disembodied.

_Is this what death feels like?_ _Am I dead?_

Then, all of her senses started to slowly return to her. The first thing she registered was the cold. As soon as she could form coherent thoughts, she realized, that she was sitting in about two feet of snow, and she was absolutely going to freeze to death if she didn’t get up and find shelter. Where had all of this snow come from? It was fall and they weren’t due for snow for at least another 2 months, much less two feet of snow. How long had she been under this tree? Her eyesight was still blurry and she had to rub her eyes to get them to focus properly.

One foot away from her was a log, and it appeared to be moving. _That’s no log!_

She was on her feet, and on him, in an instant. She could hear the fear in her voice as she shook him, “Jaime? Jaime, are you alright?”

He was making grunting sounds when he opened his eyes. “Brienne? Brienne, where are we?”

Fear, like none she had felt before, made her blood run cold through her veins. “I don’t know.”


	9. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, this is a long one. Jaime wouldn't let me end the chapter until I gave him what he wanted. Hope you like it! ;)

"Wench, I think we are fucked." Jaime was rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "We are going to freeze to death if we don't find shelter soon. Here, take my jacket!"

Brienne's teeth were chattering loudly, but she managed to stutter, "And what are you going to wear? Besides, your jacket is nowhere near warm enough to do me any good for long."

"You're wearing a flimsy woolen tunic! We can take turns wearing my jacket."

Brienne was getting angry, "Jaime, forget the jacket. Let's just start walking and try to find a place to get warm. Our boots aren't made for this weather, and if we get forstbite, it will be the end of us anyway. If you suggest carrying me, I will be forced to strangle you."

"What? I'm strong enough!" They both had to laugh at their ridiculous predicament in order to keep from crying. "Ok, how long do you figure we've got out here stumbling in the dark? Should we try to make a shelter and burn some wood, or do you suppose we can go back in the general direction from which we came, and hope to the gods that we are somewhere near the hotel, or a house, or anyplace with central heating?"

The numbness in her hands and feet was becoming excruciating. "That's the problem isn't it? We don't really know where we are. I mean, that looks kind of like the weirwood tree I touched, but it's hard to tell with all of the snow on it. Let's just try heading back in a northeasternly direction, just in case, and see what we find. I need to get my blood circulating. I can't feel my feet."

Jaime's brow furrowed, "Me neither. Come here. Let's walk together. We can keep eachother warm. If you say no, I will take off my jacket and be forced to strangle YOU with it, you bloody, stubborn, wench!" 

She acquiesced. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, and pulled her close, until she was snug up against him. It was hard to coordinate their movements at first, but soon they fell in-step together. Brienne had to admit that it was warmer this way. It was also easier to pull their legs out of the knee deep snow when they could use both of their bodies as leverage. 

They trudged along slowly. Their pants were soaked through, and their hands, lips, and cheeks had started to acquire a blue tinge. Brienne was beginning to think that maybe they were both going to die here. Her body felt wracked by the cold. 

She couldn't tell how long they had been walking in this starless night. All she could feel was the cold, damp, air that had seeped into her bones, and a growing despair in the pit of her stomach. 

Jaime must have sensed her feelings of helplessness, or perhaps, he shared them, because he stopped and turned to her, looking stricken. "Brienne, I just want you to know, in case we don't get out of here, that for a long time now I..."

And then, they heard the sound of something large crashing through the trees behind them. They heard clomping, snorting, and the distinct whinnying of what must be horses. Jaime pulled her forcefully, and moved them under the cover of a nearby tree. They observed as the approaching hooded figure, carrying a torch, stopped to lean down, and examined their footprints more closely. 

Then, the man called out, "BRIENNE? JAIME? PLEASE COME OUT. I MEAN YOU NO HARM. BRAN SENT ME FOR YOU. I HAVE CLOAKS AND A HORSE!"

Jaime whispered in Brienne's ear, "It could be a trap."

"Yes, but do we have any better options at this moment?"

He nodded, and they both took several steps out from behind the tree branches, and got close enough so that the man could see them. The torch light revealed that he had brought an additional horse, which was tethered to his, and that horse had a large bundle on it's back. The man gasped when he got a better look at them, "By the gods, it's true. You exist. It's so unnatural. Then again, I shouldn't be here either"

Brienne thought that was a very strange thing to say. As she listened more closely, and peered into his hooded face, she couldn't help but feel like she knew this man. "You know our names but can you tell us yours?"

With that, the man pulled the heavy hood off of his head, and stated, "Of course. My name is ..."

Jaime and Brienne both shouted, “JON!"

Jon's hair was long and curly, he looked more mature, his eyes were sadder with dark circles underneath, and there was a certain ghastly paleness to his face, all of which set him apart from the Jon they had seen earlier that evening, but there was no mistaking that this man was Jon, or at least, he looked almost exactly like him. Jon's face softened a little and he smiled. "Oh, you have a Jon in your time too?"

"What the hell does that mean, 'our time'? Are you Jon or not?" She could sense that Jaime was getting leery of this Jon-look-alike, and she squeezed his hand, to warn him off from saying anything more. 

"Please, come. I have cloaks for you to wear and I can take you to Bran. We have been expecting you. He will explain everything. You must be very cold. There is a cabin not too far from here. Bran is there waiting for us. Come." He waved them forward with his hand, gently, as if they were small, frightened, children he had found lost in the woods. He skillfully jumped down from his horse and took the bundle from the back of the other horse. He handed them long, heavy, hooded cloaks, and gloves, which they quickly donned. 

Jaime held onto her waist and was about to hoist her up onto the horse when Brienne stated, "I know how to ride, Jaime." She saw him smirk ever so slightly before he huffed, "Of course you do. Now all you need is the big fuck-off sword and you can truly be the maiden warrior reborn, just like the Red Witch predicted."

They both noticed look-alike-Jon stiffen and stare at them intently. "Did you say the Red Witch?"

"Yeah, she a friend of yours Jon, but-not-Jon-from-our-time?", Jaime questioned his trustworthiness, conspicuously.

"Decidedly not." His tone was very formal, and Brienne was becoming more and more convinced, that this Jon, was definitely very different from _their_ Jon. "Let's make haste, we have much to discuss."

Jaime climbed onto the horse behind Brienne and took the reins from her. Brienne looked at him incredulously, "Really?"

"Yeah, really, wench. Now, move that big noggin over a little so I can see where we're bloody going. Or do I have to arm wrestle the reins out of your reach?"

Brienne thought she heard Jon mutter under his breath as he walked away, "Bloody Kingslayer is the same no matter how many moons pass through the spans of time."

Jaime leaned into her and whispered, "Kingslayer?"

* * *

They rode for about an hour deeper into the woods. Brienne felt herself leaning back heavily into Jaime's body. Exhaustion and the steady cantering pace of their horse was lulling her to sleep, when they stopped in front of a small cabin, hidden almost completely by an overgrowth of trees, bushes, and snow. 

They tied their horses to a post in a middling shed that held a few other horses. Jon knocked three times on the door of the cabin and it was opened a small fraction, before the person at the door must have determined it was safe to open it wide enough for them all to enter. 

The cabin was warm and moderately illuminated by the glow of a fairly large fire in the hearth. The first person Brienne noticed was the young man in the wheelchair, the Bran-look-alike from the clearing, the one she had seen on Weirwood Offering Celebration day. He gazed past her with expressionless eyes and a bland, unreadable look on his face. "Bran, is that you?"

When he turned to her and spoke his voice was just as expressionless, "Yes, and no."

Jaime had had enough, clearly, because he almost shouted in exasperation, "Ok. What the fuck is going on here? You better start explaining real quick because I am getting the distinct impression that you are somehow behind all of this!"

"Calm down dear brother, or should I say, brother from a different mother. Your assumptions are correct, but you must allow Bran the opportunity to explain. I see that you resemble my brother not only in appearance but in temperament as well. I hope that you will prove wiser, for your sake." Brienne and Jamie both turned simultaneously to stare at the speaker, in dismay.

"TYRION?! My gods you look SO OLD! What in the seven hells happened to you?" Jaime dropped down to his knees to look at Tyrion more closely and peered into his face searching for answers.

"Now, this is just not fair. You were already much more handsome than me, now you get to be much younger than me as well. I need more wine." Tyrion grabbed his wine goblet from the small table next to them and downed its contents. 

Then, they heard small steady footsteps as a young woman came out of a room just to their left. "Brienne. I never thought I would see you again!" The red head grabbed Brienne and buried her face in Brienne's shoulder and started to sob loudly. Brienne reflexively wrapped her arms around her and said, "Sansa?"

Bran spoke very slowly and distinctly, "Remember Sansa, she's not our Brienne. Our Brienne is gone. Our Jaime is gone too. They don't know them. They don't know us either, or at least not this version of us. Before I explain, please have something warm to drink. We have dry clothes for you to change into. What I have to say will come as a shock and you must be very weary already." 

Sansa gently led Brienne into a bedroom to change and Tyrion led Jaime into another. Once changed, they reconvened in front of the fire with a mug of spiced, piping hot ale. They were also given crusty, and slightly stale, bread, and somewhat moldy cheese to eat. "Pardon, our provisions have been depleted and our food stores are woefully precarious. But it is all we have to offer you." Jon sounded much older than he looked as he handed them tiny pieces of unidentifiable meat they dared not examine too closely before consuming. 

Brienne and Jaime had pulled their chairs close to one another. Jaime grabbed a hold of her hand and absently began running his thumb along her knuckles. Tyrion looked at them curiously for a moment before he turned to Bran and said, "Well, that's different."

Bran once again said, "Yes, and no." in a noncommittal way. "I suppose the time has come for me tell you both why you are here. Jaime is correct in stating that I had something to do with it, but this is not about me at all really."

Jaime huffed, "Does he always talk in riddles like this?"

To which everyone in the room answered in unison, "Yes".

Bran, seemingly completely unfazed by their snarkiness continued on as if he had never stopped, "I am sure you have both heard of the Great Battle at The Twins? However, the version you likely know is not entirely accurate. You believe that we won that battle. We didn't. We lost. But I have given us a chance to try again."

"Wait. Stop. Reality check time. What the fuck are you saying here? Are you saying that we gods-damned time traveled? That we went all the way back in time to a battle that happened 2,000 years before we were born? That somehow you have the power to rip a hole through space and time and that you... what? Opened a fucking portal for us to jump through and come here to do....what? To somehow help you fucking win a battle that you, let me check my notes...that you ALREADY FUCKING LOST?! And if you say, 'Yes, and No' again I may have to throw this chair into the fire." Brienne patted his arm comfortingly but she also felt like throwing her chair into the fire in exasperation.

Tyrion whistled, "The Mother protect us, but you are even more hot-tempered than my brother is, or rather, was, or mayhap it's just that foul mouth of yours that makes you seem more ferocious".

"And you're much more of a cunt than my sweet brother is, or will be, so there's that."

Tyriono raised his wine goblet, "Seven Blessings!"

"I would not have done what I did if I had seen any other way. I am the three-eyed-raven, which means that I can see the past, the present, and see various possibilities of what will happen in the future. There are many possible futures, depending on the choices we make in the present." When he saw Brienne and Jaime giving him a quizical look he said, "I will try my best to explain. In our current time, I foresaw that Jaime Lannister would be the one to kill the Night King, using his Valyrian steel sword, Widow's Wail. Brienne was supposed to be instrumental in the battle as well, as she would have been the one to slay the Night King's ice dragon. Unfortunately, Jaime did not become whom he was supposed to be due to the choices he chose to make." Here Bran paused and looked pointedly at Tyrion. 

Tyrion cleared his throat and wiped a tear from his eye, "Quite the understatement. Jaime made almost every wrong turn, thanks mostly to his unhealthy obsession with our dear sister".

Jaime sat up. "Do you mean Cersei? What bad choices did he make?"

Tyrion sighed loudly, "Oh, so many. For starters, he fell in love with our dear sister and she manipulated him, solely for her own gain, at every opportunity."

Jaime nodded, "Sounds familiar."

"Then, they started fucking at age 13."

Jaime choked on his ale and practically coughed his lungs out. "WHAT?! THAT IS FUCKING GROSS!"

"Oh good, that means you are not as much of an imbecile as he was. I was beginning to worry about that a tad". Tyrion raised his goblet again and drank. "Yes, they never did stop fucking. Not even when she married the King, nor when Jaime became Lord Commander of the King's Guard. To make a very long and painful story shorter, and less painful, at least for you, I will tell you that he fathered her 3 children, whom were passed off as King Robert's, in order to retain their claims on the Iron Throne, and to avoid certain death for all involved. Furthermore, all of their children died anyway, in horribly gruesome circumstances we won't go over here. Let's see, next, Jaime chose to stay by Cersei's side, even after she blew up an entire sept full of constituents, most of whom were nobility, in order to retain power and a claim on the Iron Throne. Then, when she finally did become Queen, after the death of her youngest son, Jaime aided and abetted her in every possible way. Finally, when the North lost the battle of Winterfell, partly because Cersei selfishly refused to send her army, and the remaining Northern-allied forces reconvened here to hold off the army of the dead as long as possible, Brienne sent Ser Jaime a raven pleading with him to come and help out in the fight, any way that he could. As you might have guessed from the way our tale of woe has been unraveling, Jaime chose to ignore Brienne's pleas and instead, stayed with Cersei; essentially sealing the fate of every man, woman, and child in the seven kingdoms."

Tyrion filled his goblet with more wine and took a long drought. "In the end, it was this final choice that damned them both. You see, once the Night King's army had slaughtered everyone at the Great Battle of The Twins, because of course Brienne didn't stand a chance against the ice dragon without Jaime by her side, they all marched down to King’s Landing, where I am told, they overran the forces there as well, infiltrated the Red Keep, and killed everyone inside, including both of my siblings."

Jaime stood up from his seat and started pacing the room, running his fingers nervously through his hair. "Holy Fuck!" 

Bran turned to Jaime, "Ser Jaime was doomed to fail because he kept choosing the wrong path. He had many chances in this life to fulfill his destiny, but he never became whom he was meant to be. Ser Jaime was long ago prophesied to become Azor Ahai. He was the only one who could have killed the Night King."

Brienne got up from her seat and stood next to Jaime. She put her arm around his shoulders. "Well, if he was destined to become Azor Ahai, how come it never happened? I thought that destiny is something that is set in stone, something that cannot be changed."

Bran shook his head. "No, it doesn't work that way. We are all born with free will, which means that we still have the ability to make our own choices. Destiny is based on probability. It is determined due to many different, coexisting, factors. Just because someone is destined to be great, doesn't always mean they will make it there."

"So, you're saying your Jaime failed because he loved his sister too much?" Jaime asked with a wounded expression on his face. 

Bran shook his head once again. "No, he failed because he didn't love _himself_ enough. He chose Cersei, and denied himself at every turn. He let his love for her override his true nature. Ser Jaime ended up hating himself and believing he wasn't worthy of Brienne's love or of any kind of redemption. His own self-loathing is what doomed us all to this fate."

Jaime had tears rolling down his face. Brienne hugged him tightly and he buried his face in her neck as shudders of grief for the man he could have become wracked him. "It's ok Jaime. You're not him. You chose differently."

"Exactly. That's why you are here with us. I allowed myself to look through time and imagine a future where a Jaime Lannister would be born worthy enough for the task set before him. The minute I made that choice, I saw that if I opened up a portal in the weirwood tree, I could set into motion a timeline where that possibility could take place. I saw that if Jaime had met Brienne earlier, she would help him embrace his true nature, and make different choices."

"Are you saying you willed us into existence?" She knew that her tone was sarcastic, but really, she was just having trouble accepting that anyone could have that much power. 

Bran smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, and No."

Jaime glared at him and growled. "I've got a fucking headache."

"I'm saying, that I allowed for the possibility. The gods are the ones that willed you into existence, I merely provided the means for you to get here."

"So, wait, this means that we won't fail, right? Otherwise, how could we exist in the future?"

"One can always fail. If either of you fail, we are all doomed. This is mankind's last hope."

Jaime was visibly shaken. "No pressure."

Tyrion must have thought his next words would lighten the mood, either that, or he was beyond-the-pail drunk. "Oh, Jaime, I forgot to mention that my brother pushed Bran here out of a tower window and that's why he's in a wheelchair."

"If he hadn't done it, I would never have become the three-eyed-raven".

"Why in the seven hells did twisted-version-of-me push you out of a tower window?" Jaime sounded like he couldn't take much more of these revelations about his other self.

Tyrion raised his goblet once again. "For Cersei of course! Well, actually, to keep Bran from revealing that he saw him fucking Cersei in that tower".

Jaime groaned and poured himself a goblet full of wine. "This is the worst timeline."

Brienne, whom had been very quietly weighing the possibilities, decided it was time she speak up. So very softly, almost inaudibly, she said, "We must kill the ice dragon and the Night King." She turned to Jaime, "We have to try."

"Right. Ok. I mean, it's not like we have any other fucking choice, but how exactly do you all propose we do this? Brienne is 18 and I'm 19. We are in high school. We aren't trained soldiers."

Bran turned to Jon, "Show them."

Jon brought over a brown bundle. He carefully unrolled it to reveal two glorious swords. One had a lion's head with ruby eyes and the other had a large golden pummel inlaid with a large oval ruby. "Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail."

"These swords are amazing, but how can they help us if we don't know how to wield them?" Brienne felt the weight of her words tipping over the ever-growing bowl-full of fear in her stomach. 

Jon looked meaningfully into her frightened eyes, "You will. I will train you myself."

Bran smiled calmly again. "There is another who may assist you in your quest, when the time comes. For now, I think we should all try to get some rest. We must move on from this place in the morning. The Night King is searching for me. He is very angry that I stole his victory from him. He does not yet fully understand the impact of what I have done, but when he figures it out, he will come after you as well."

* * *

Brienne was not surprised when Jaime insisted on sharing a room with her. She was surprised, however, at how happy and safe she felt now that she had agreed to it. The reality was, that even though the people in this cabin looked familiar, they were strangers. Jaime was the only person in this entire world who truly knew her. "Jaime this is all so..."

"Ridiculously insane?" he scoffed.

"Yeah." She laughed softly. "And overwhelming. But we have to try"

"I know wench, I know. I'm going to be here by your side every minute. We will figure out a way to do this together. It's our destiny, if we choose it. Or some shit like that..." 

They were both laughing when he grabbed her waist and plunged them both onto the bed.

They were both laying on their sides, in an embrace, staring at one another. His eyes were smoldering and piercing. He was searching for something in her face when he said, "Brienne, why did you run from me?"

Brienne stiffened in his arms and turned her face to look at the ceiling.

"No, don't hide from me any more." He gently pulled on her chin to turn her back towards him and gazed sweetly at her. "I need to know what I did wrong. Did I offend you in some way? Does the idea of kissing me repulse you? If you never want me to kiss you again, just let me know. I won't like it, but I promise I won't kiss you again if you really don't want me to." She could hear that his voice was getting heavy with emotion.

Her breath hitched and she willed herself to be brave. She needed to be honest with him. She owed him that much. "No, it's not that. It's just that, I don't want to lose you." She could feel that her tears were threatening to choke her and would betray the depth of her emotions.

"Why would you lose me? I'm not going anywhere."

"But you will. When you realize what you could have instead. I mean look at me Jaime, just fucking look at me."

Jaime sat up and he sounded very angry when he said, "I AM looking at you! Don't you think I see you? I look at you ALL OF THE TIME! I see you Brienne."

"Then, how could you want to kiss me?" she was practically whimpering and her treacherous tears stung her eyes so badly she had to blink rapidly to keep them at bay. 

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I want to kiss you because you are amazing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You may not be other people's idea of pretty but I think you are beautiful."

Brienne was shaking her head now and the tears were rolling down her face. She couldn't stop them. Her chest ached. How could he think she was beautiful?

"Don't shake your head at me. That's it. Get up. Come here." He grabbed her forearms and was tugging her up from the bed.

"Jaime what.." 

He frog marched her over to a mirror. He stood directly behind her and pointed at the mirror over her right shoulder. 'What do you see? Tell me what you see when you look at yourself?"

Did he really expect her to do this? _Be brave Brienne. Tell him what you see. _"Uhhh, I see a manish, overly tall woman, with broad shoulders, frumpy hair, a crooked nose, enormously big teeth and lips, too many freckles, and...I'm ugly, ok. I see a big, ugly, cow. Same as everyone else sees."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "No, that's not what I see."

He ran his hands across her shoulders and down her back. "I see a woman that's strong. I see a warrior. You can defend yourself and beat a man to a pulp if you have to, and that's sexy as fuck. I see gorgeous blue eyes and plush, ridiculously soft lips." He was dragging a finger down her nose and over her lips. "Your lips are perfect, and I think about kissing them all of the time." He leaned in closer and pressed his body against hers. "Fuck Brienne, can't you feel how much I want you." He ground his hips into her and she could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into her backside. "I see YOU. I want YOU so fucking much it hurts."

His words were making her insides melt and her knees were shaking. Leaning her into the wall, he started grinding into her backside. He plunged his head into her neck and was suckling on it so deliciously that a moan escaped from her lips. 

"Fuck. Want. Want you so bad." He picked her up and practically tossed her onto the bed. 

She let out a little yelp and looked at him in startled amazement. 

"I told you I was strong enough." He straddled her hips and continued to grind into her while his mouth plundered hers. "You taste so sweet. I just want to lick you and taste you all over."

She could feel herself getting lost in the passion of what he was doing to her. "Jaime, I've never done this before."

Looking at her with soft eyes he said, "I know. We can go slow." He put his hands under the hemline of her tunic. "Is this ok?" 

"Yes." She was breathless with need. 

With that, he pulled up her tunic and ran his hands across the plains of her stomach and roamed slowly higher until he found her small breasts. He hissed and started to palm them in slow circular motions. "You're not wearing a bra! You are so fucking sexy." He ducked his head down and put one pert nipple into his mouth while his thumb and forefinger rolled the other one. She could feel his touch reverberating through her and causing a deep ache in-between her legs. She pressed and rubbed her thighs together in search of relief. She was dripping wet. 

He felt her squirm and gave her his slow predatory smile before trailing his left hand down her stomach and into her breeches. She lifted her hips into his touch when his fingers grazed her pelvis and found her folds. "So wet", he said hungrily before kissing her deeply. His finger swirled up and down the seem of her slit, and then circled the clit of her cunt, slowly. When her hips started to rise up off the bed, he increased the pace of his ministrations, plunging a finger inside of her, which made her emit soft mewling sounds. 

"Oh, Jaime."

He looked up at her with hooded eyes, "Say it again!'

"Jaime. Jaime. Oh, Jaime..."

"Fuck, Brienne." He was kissing her, circling her clit with his thumb, and was stroking a place deep inside of her with his index finger. She felt the pressure building until she thought she would explode. Suddenly, her release came crashing down, in strong shudder-inducing waves that coursed through her. She felt like she was melting and sliding right off the edge of the world. 

Jaime slowly pulled his hand out of her pants and then, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. "Just as I thought. You taste sweet all over." 

He laid down beside her and put his head on her shoulder. "Sleep now, wench." Then, he pulled her into him so she was curled onto her side with her head on his chest. She was already drifting to sleep when she thought she felt him kiss the top of her head and say, "I love you". 


	10. Lunges and Retreats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has alternating POVs. It was very painful to write, but necessary. Oh the angst! Sorry.

It was very dark. When Brienne opened her eyes, it took her mind a few minutes to fully register why she felt so uneasy. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep but something about how dark it was in the room seemed wrong. Suddenly, she felt a chill and snuggled further back into the only source of heat in the room. That’s when she became aware of a warm hand on her hip and a strong arm around her waist. She felt his breath in her hair and one of his legs was draped over hers. _Jaime._

The memories of what they’d shared before falling asleep in each other’s arms made her blush. He’d said she was beautiful. He actually wanted to kiss her, and touch her, _and Oh gods_, he HAD touched her. She got a shiver down her spine just thinking about the way his hands and lips had felt on her body. Suddenly, as if he knew what she was thinking, Jaime’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.

_He said he loved me._

At the time she remembered feeling content and safe. Now, she wasn’t sure if she had ever heard anything more terrifying in her life.

Did he actually think he loved her? Or did he just think that’s what she wanted to hear _after_? He’d said it so softly that she didn’t think he had meant for her to hear him. It’s not that she didn’t _want_ to believe him. It’s that she was very afraid to let herself believe it. The implications of Jaime Lannister being in love with her were so incomprehensible that she didn’t even know where to begin to dissect them.

Did she love _him_? Is that what that achy longing and fluttering in her stomach was whenever he was around? Is that why she couldn’t stop thinking about him or wanting to be near him? Is that why whenever he got close to her all she wanted to do was hold on and never let him go, but also, weirdly enough, run away and hide? Surely, love was not this confusing. She wouldn’t really know. She had never been in love before. She’d had plenty of crushes, but being in love was always a foreign concept to her, like a hazy dream that only other people dreamt.

Brienne had learned to lock away the most tender and vulnerable parts of herself from the rest of the world. She’d known devastating loss and cruelty. She knew the dangers of letting others in. If you let people into your heart, they had the power to hurt you. The loss of her mother and Galladon had crushed her. She’d sort of lost her father too, after they died, at least the happy and carefree father she once remembered. Then, there was the matter of how strangers had never shied away from teasing, staring, mocking, jeering, and outright making her feel like she didn’t fit in anywhere, like no one would ever want her. Sure, she had friends, but that was different. The Starks were an exceptional family. Cat had taken her under her wing and made her part of the pack. They accepted her for who she was, because that’s just what Starks do. The pack sticks together. But she had no real aspirations towards romantic love. If she married one day, she assumed it would be for convenience and companionship. She thought maybe, if she was lucky, she’d marry a Stark or a Tully, just because they were _there_ and it would make sense to easily fall into some sort of agreeable arrangement.

The idea of passion had been completely erased from her mental lexicon. She just didn’t think it would happen for her, so why indulge in fantasies that could only bring her more disappointment and heartache?

When she thought of loving Jaime it made her heart squeeze tight, as if it were in a vise. Walls that had been long-ago erected, doors that had been closed, were straining under the pressure of two opposing forces; her desire to be with him, in that way, and her need for self-preservation. While she trusted Jaime enough not to lie and intentionally deceive her, she didn’t trust that someday, probably soon, he would wake up and realize how foolish he had been for thinking he could ever truly love a beast. She also wasn’t completely convinced that what he felt for her was not some sort of rebound effect, after being devastated by the truth of his sister’s affections, or lack thereof. When would he recognize how ugly, awkward, mannish, and boring she was? And how would she EVER recover from THAT when he finally did leave her? To let herself believe that she had the love of someone so beautiful, charming, warm, and all-around-wonderful only to lose it...she knew she’d never fully recover. How would anyone else ever compare to him? Who could possibly fill that void once he was gone?

_I’m in love with him. _

_What am I going to do?_

She could allow herself to love him, but not the way he wanted. She would preserve what they had now at all costs. Even if she felt like it would kill her, because the alternative, definitely would. 

* * *

One cannot truly comprehend what “eternal darkness” and “endless winter” mean, until you are forced to live in it. Jaime could no longer recall what it was like to wake up in the morning with the sun shining through his window, warming his skin, and bringing with it the promise of a new day. It was completely disorienting to arise from sleep and find himself in darkness _all of the time! _ The darkness just went on and on, until he felt like he was trapped in a tomb, living in a nightmare from which he might never wake up. Whenever, his mind tried to wrap itself around the concept, he felt it slipping a little, falling into a pit of what felt a lot like desolation.

To make matters infinitely worse, Brienne was being weird. It had been days since that night they had been together, and whenever they were alone, she would find a reason to go somewhere else, away from him. At first he thought he was imagining it, because she was as nice as ever towards him, but then, he began to notice that she would anticipate his touch and shy away. That had hurt, but then, he had managed to convince himself, for a bit, that maybe she just didn’t like public displays of affection.

They had moved into a much smaller cabin with only two rooms. So it had made sense for her to want to share a room with Sansa, for Sansa’s sake. What _didn’t_ make sense to him was the way she had ducked out of his embrace when he had tried to kiss her in private one evening.

That had hurt too, a lot. But the conversation that ensued the following day had been devastating. They had been standing outside waiting for Jon to start their lessons.

_“Brienne, why are you being weird?”_

_She turned towards him but wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m not being weird.”_

_“Yeah, you totally are. We need to talk about this. Look, I know how shy you are and that you want to go slow, but it just feels like you are running away from me again. Why are you always running away from me?” He was trying to keep the conversation casual but it just wasn’t in him. He wasn’t a casual type of guy. He was impulsive, sensitive, hot-headed, and single-mindedly-driven towards attaining the things that he wanted. _

_“I don’t know what you are talking about I…” Brienne was using her patient and reserved voice and it was KILLING him. _

_“I’m sorry ok. I know I can be clingy and annoying and I don’t give you enough space, and that I probably come on too strong and that you’re not used to that but…I just can’t help it. I will try harder to respect your wishes and ….”He knew that he sounded pathetic._

_“Jaime, it’s not that. I just…I’m confused. I don’t know what to do.” After a long pause she said, “I just want to be friends. I think that’s the safest thing. The best thing.” She was wringing her hands and looked so damned sad, like she was sorry for him. She was trying to let him down easy. _

_She didn’t want him. All this time he thought she was just naïve and scared, but really she just DID NOT WANT HIM._

_“For who? The best thing for who? Don’t fucking put words in my mouth. Just say it. Just say that you don’t want to be with me.” He could feel the words choking him. _

_“I do want to be with you. I want to be with you always. That’s why I want to be friends. I don’t want to lose you.” She was looking at him now and her eyes were red and shimmering in the torchlight with unshed tears._

_“I told you before, I’m not going anywhere. Why do you always think I will leave you? Is that how little you think of me? Am I that much of an asshole in your eyes? Have I not done enough to show you how much I care about you?” He was getting angry now. Why was his love never enough? It certainly wasn’t enough for Cersei, and now it wasn’t enough for Brienne._

_“No, you don’t understand. It’s just not that easy for me, ok? This is all I can offer you right now. Please, Jaime. Please, I just…” Then, she turned away from him and started crying in a way that sent a hard pang into his chest._

** _I am an asshole._ **

_He was trying to pressure her into being with him. He didn’t have the right to do that. If this was all she was able to give him, he would take it. Of course he would take it. _

_Jaime ran to her and swaddled her up in his embrace. “Shhh, it’s ok. Of course we can be friends. We will always be friends, if that’s what you want.”_

_When she looked at him with those big, startling blue, grateful eyes, he knew it was the right thing to do. “It’s ok, really. Let’s just get into position. I see Jon coming.” _

He thought he was getting better at suppressing his true feelings. They would talk and joke, but had lost that easy companionship they once shared. Everything felt a little bit forced, a little bit strained. He would second guess himself before saying certain things and would have to physically restrain his hands so they wouldn’t touch her, as much as he wanted to touch her. But still, he thought, _I can do this. I can be just friends._

It helped that they had been training and moving near constantly for the past few weeks. They had been traveling a few hours every couple of days, _it felt strange to think of their sunless existence as days, _to cabins scattered throughout the Riverlands. Whenever Bran accessed his power, he ran the risk of exposing their whereabouts to the Night King, whom somehow could sense it. However, Bran had to use his powers of sight in order to keep tabs on the Night King’s location. Bran was becoming increasingly more certain that he would come for them soon. This meant that they did not have nearly enough time to prepare. Furthermore, Jaime still was not exactly sure what they were supposed to _do_ once the inevitable confrontation took place.

They trained with Jon whenever possible, getting in anywhere from 4-6 hours on a bad day, when the elements would not allow for more, and 7-9 on better days. There were no good days.

They had started off with wooden swords. Rather quickly, they had gotten competent enough to wield Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail. Their sparring was becoming quite competitive. Neither of them enjoyed losing, and they were both almost equally matched in terms of skill. Brienne was a bit stronger and Jaime was a bit quicker, but their movements were becoming fluid. It felt like dancing. Here alone, they allowed themselves to be free and completely authentic with one another.

The clanging of their swords, the synchronicity and rhythm of their movements, the exhilaration of this time together, felt so natural and so right, that they often found themselves smiling even as they grunted and heaved themselves into a frenzy of lunges and retreats.

According to Jon, they were getting quite good. However, they were still not good enough to beat him, which worried Jaime a great deal. Ser Jaime Lannister was supposedly one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms, even after losing his sword hand. He was destined to defeat the Night King because he actually had had the skill to do it.

_How can I ever get that good in time?_ _How in the name of the seven will Brienne ever defeat an ice dragon?_

* * *

One day after supper, the answer presented itself with a knock on the door. They all had looked at one another with fear in their eyes. They had not come across a single living soul in all of their travels, and it was hard to imagine that any survivors would risk exposure like this. However, Bran allayed all of their fears by saying, “Please open the door Jon. She is here to help us.”

Jon opened the door to reveal a red-headed woman in a blood-red hooded cloak. Her blue eyes were piercing and the ruby in her necklace glowed bright as she stepped further into the room to greet them. “The Lord of Light has blessed us with another opportunity. May he be forever praised!”

“Melisandre, what brings you here?” Jon inquired with a skeptical brow and wary tone.

“The Lord of Light sent me. I believe I may be of assistance to young Jaime and Brienne.”

Jaime looked at her with disdain, “You’re not going to ask for a blood sacrifice are you?”

Melisandre laughed and took off her cloak. She moved closer to the fire and beckoned them forward. “It won’t be necessary. But I will need your swords. We must hurry. The Night King approaches.” She motioned for them to hand her Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail. “Just as I thought. These objects contain great power. We can use them to summon their spirits to guide you.”

Brienne looked at Jaime and he shook his head. “Who’s spirits? I don’t know if I want spirits anywhere near us.”

“The Warrior Maiden and the Great Lion of Lannister. Their souls are reflected in these objects. If we summon them and ask for their help, the Lord of Light may grant them passage.”

“Wait, you’re calling Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister’s ghosts to chat with us?” He could feel himself recoiling at the very idea of speaking to ghosts.

“Their bodies are past saving. They could not be brought back. However, since your bodies are near identical, it may work.”

Something about what Melisandre said made goosebumps stand up on his arms. “Bring them back? Like, from the dead? Wait, are you saying we will be fucking possessed by their spirits or something?”

“You will maintain full control of your bodies. They can only speak to you. Show you the way.”

Brienne reached for him for the first time since that evening. “Jaime, we need them. We are not ready. We will lose without them. They wouldn’t hurt us.”

Jaime scoffed, “I don’t know about that. Ser Jaime Lannister sounded like a dick.” He huffed when he saw the concern on her face, “Fine wench, you’re right. We are fucked either way, at least _this_ way we have a chance.”

Melisandre instructed them to hold their swords over the fire. Then, she put her hands on their shoulders and began her incantation. She repeated it so long that Jaime was beginning to think it wasn’t going to work. The Red Witch’s body reverberated with the power of her words. The flames in the hearth began to grow brighter and taller. They heard two piercing screams that almost made them drop their swords. Fire licked the blades and the steel began to glow, alternating between red and orange. It almost looked like it was melting and re-solidifying before their very eyes.

A surge of energy traveled from the blade, into the hilt, and straight into his hand. His every nerve ending, every fiber of his being resisted the surge of energy that overtook him. He thought he heard a slightly huskier version of his own voice say “Let me in”. Jaime willed himself to relax and his body ran hot and then, ice cold. At that moment, the fire went out and his brain was rocketed with images bombarding him. He saw himself being born at Casterly Rock. He saw himself swimming with Cersei. He saw Tyrion being born. On and on the flashes of memory assaulted him and he felt his knees give way.

Brienne had one hand propped on the mantle and she was leaning precariously over it. She was shaking her head and then, hugged her arms to her body, as if shielding herself from a beating.

Tyrion spoke and it broke the heavy silence in the room, “Did it work?”

Jaime’s head was still swimming, trying to assimilate information, and sort through it. He felt himself access Ser Jaime’s sword-fighting memories. He grabbed Widow’s Wail tight in his right hand and then deftly switched it to his left. “Yes, I can fight with both hands now.”

Brienne straightened and squared her shoulders. “I can beat a much bigger man than myself with this sword now AND bite his ear off, apparently.”

Jaime suddenly thought of something very important he should have asked before, “How long will our guests be living with us?”

The Red Witch smiled, “Only as long as you let them stay. You can expel them at any time and they must obey. However, the information they impart will never completely fade. Pardon me, I must go lay down to restore my strength. We can speak more later. I suggest you rest as well, you will need your strength.”

From his place near the hearth Jon was busy trying to relight the fire when he asked, “Bran, how long do we have?”

“He could be upon us at any moment. I can no longer safely use my powers. He is too close. We may have to forgo the fire soon. The Night King searches for us. Once he finds us he will send his army. The only real chance we have is if we lure him somewhere and then, attack.”

Jon made a small disgruntled noise, “That didn’t work so well for us at The Twins. We almost lost you.”

“Yes, but we didn’t have Azor Ahai reborn with us then.”

Jaime knew he sounded very weary when he said, “How do we lure him?”

Jon looked at Bran and then at Jaime. “Last time we set a huge fire in the woods. This time I think it would be best to make the target smaller. There are some caves, about a twenty minute’s ride northeast of here. I’ve lined the perimeter with pots of Wild Fire. If we set those off, then we can lure him down, and then, we can use them to possibly trap him in the cave. You, will be waiting deep inside the cave for him. His dragon won’t be able to fit in there and it’s too deep for its blue flames to reach you. That’s where you come in Brienne. If you can somehow hold the dragon off of me, I will stand guard and make sure that the Night King doesn’t make it back out, in case Jaime fails.”

_In case Jaime fails_.

The thought of Brienne holding off a dragon was more terrifying than of him fighting and failing to slay the Night King. It all sounded impossible and terrifying. Ser Jaime was not more confident about their chances of success, or so his memories conveyed.

“I need to lie down. See you in a few hours wench” and with that he went to his room to process the well of conflicting emotions coursing through him. 

* * *

Brienne was having trouble sleeping. She was tossing and turning as memory after memory of a life she had not lived accosted her.

_King Renly’s death. Ser Jaime losing his hand. The Baths at Harrenhal. The bear pit. _

She could feel every emotion attached to these events. She also, for the first time, was able to see her own body objectively. She was an amazing fighter and moved with a grace that was startling to her. Moreover, the way Ser Jaime looked at Brienne was the most surprising revelation of her life. She could see how he desired her and longed to be near her. He definitely cared for her. The look he had in his eyes when he gave Brienne Oathkeeper had to be love. She had seen that look before. _Oh, Jaime._

She heard a knock on her door. When she opened it, Jaime was there, and he silently beseeched her to join him in the next room. 

“Brienne, I remember things. I mean, I see his memories.” He sounded tormented.

“I know. I see hers too.” She was just as stricken with the thought.

“He…he loved you, I mean, her. He loved her like I love you. He loved her and he let her get away. He never told her. Jaime was not sure but…Maybe, she loved him too…” His shoulders were slumped but his eyes seemed hopeful. Jaime was searching her face again, expectant, pleading…

She reached for him, “Jaime I…”

“I know. You care about me, but you don’t love me.” His voice cracked. “But I love you. And nothing you say or do will ever change that.” He looked resolute, “I love you.” He took a deep wavering breath. “But I know it’s not enough” Jaime didn’t appear to be breathing and Brienne could feel her own getting shallow. The knot in her stomach was pressing into her lungs and settling in her throat.

“I know it doesn’t matter what I say. It doesn’t matter that I think you’re beautiful. It doesn’t matter that I want you. It doesn’t matter that I’ve told you I love you, because you will never believe me”. Jaime sounded so defeated and so lost. “You won’t let me love you. You will keep me at bay. You’ll run away. You’ll offer me friendship. But it’s just not enough” The finality in his voice was scaring her. She felt her chin trembling and she had to ball her hands at her side to keep them from reaching for him.

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me.” His breathing was labored and tears were rolling down his face.” I want to be with you in a way that you will never allow. And that’s ok, I understand. I understand, but I don’t accept it. I just can’t.” He was wiping the tears out of his eyes as he went into his bedroom and slammed the door.

He didn’t understand. How could she make him understand?

Sansa opened their bedroom door and gave her a sad smile. “Do you want to talk?”

Brienne nodded as she tried to muffle her sobs. Brienne sat heavily on the bed. It felt like her whole heart would explode. 

Sansa looked at her knowingly, “You love him. Just like she loved Ser Jaime. Why don’t you tell him? She waited until it was too late. But it’s not too late for you.”

“I don’t want to lose him.” Her voice sounded small and frightened.

“But he loves you, that’s obvious to anyone with eyes. Why would he leave you?” Sansa looked genuinely confused by the notion.

“Because look at me. Don’t you think he can do better? Don’t you think he will one day realize we shouldn’t be together?”

Sansa’s eyes grew hard and she sat up tall in the bed. Her look was almost disdainful. “Brienne, you are being very shallow. How dare you judge him so just because of the way he looks?”

Brienne was shocked because she had never thought of it that way before. “What? I don’t…I…”

“Yes you do. You of all people should know that we can’t judge people based on their looks. If you assume he can’t love you because he’s too handsome, wouldn’t that be the same as him judging that you can’t love him because you are too unattractive? It just doesn’t make sense. Love doesn’t work that way. We can’t help who we love.” Sansa sniffed, almost regally. “My Brienne was often self-conscience, and I know it’s hard not to be when people have been judging you and treating you poorly your entire life; but she was the kindest, most noble, and bravest person I ever met. She was the best of us, and if you are anything like her, anybody who knows you would be a fool not to love you. Don’t deny yourself the love you deserve. He loves you, now you have to love yourself enough to let him.”

Brienne was struck by her words. How true they sounded. She felt the walls around her heart crashing down. How could she deny herself happiness when it was so willingly and generously offered? She realized that by denying herself Jaime’s love, out of fear of some imagined future rejection, based solely on self-hate, she had been more cruel to herself than any of her past tormentors ever had.

She shot up from the bed, determined to speak with him. She couldn’t let another moment pass without him knowing how she felt. “You’re right. Thank you so much Sansa” She grabbed Sansa’s hand and squeezed it fondly before she left the room.

Brienne’s hands shook as she knocked on his door. _I am his if he will be mine. _Several moments passed before she knocked again. Still there was no answer. She opened the door slowly, only to find that the room was empty.

_NO!_

She ran to the sitting room and saw Tyrion lounging by the fire and drinking wine from his goblet.

“Tyrion, where did he go?”

Tyrion gave her a sad look, “You know where he went.”

The warrior maiden showed her an image of Ser Jaime jumping into the bear pit at Harrenhal. “NO!!!!”


	11. Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also has alternating POVs. I was scared to write this chapter but I am pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you all like it.

Jaime had studied Jon’s map long and hard, but he still wasn’t sure he was heading in the right direction. It was immensely difficult to see out here. The torch only provided him with so much visibility. He circled around looking for the cluster of weirwoods and spruces up on the top of a hill. The caves would be just beyond them to the northeast.

He knew he was a damned fool for coming out here alone, but Ser Jaime’s memories were so much in the forefront of his mind, that he was sure they were unduly influencing his behavior. They were reminding him about the wench’s honor and bravery, warning him that she would sacrifice herself for him, when the time came. He just couldn’t let her do it. His love for her would not allow it. He couldn’t let her die, especially not to save him.

If he somehow managed to get the Night King to follow him into the caves, then, he could end this all on his own. The thought of Brienne fighting an ice dragon was unthinkable, and the thought of her sacrificing herself for him, unbearable. He could not fail her. He could not fail to protect her, the way Ser Jaime had failed his Brienne. The man’s guilt had weighed so heavily on his conscience that he had had nightmares, every night for months, of his Brienne dying in a myriad of grisly ways while calling out to him, pleading for him to come and rescue her. Ser Jaime’s memories seemed to be saying to him, “You won’t be able to live with yourself if she dies”. In Jaime’s heart, he knew this to be true.

Just as he spotted the hill, he heard the sound of horses approaching from the south. It could only mean one thing; he had failed. He’d taken too long. Jon and Brienne had caught up to him. Jon knew the route better than anyone, of course he would find it much faster than Jaime ever could circling around in the dark, with only his memory of a hastily drawn map to guide him.

Jaime could race off without them, but there was literally no point. Instead, he slowed his horse down a fraction so they knew he was aware of their approach.

Brienne was the first to pull up beside him. She glared at him with an intensity he had not seen since the day she had accused him of being in on the bet, the day she had assumed the worst of him. “Idiot.” She spat the word at him with such venom he couldn’t help but physically recoil from it. Brienne turned away from him, pointedly _not_ looking at him, but he could see tears in the corners of her eyes. 

“We need to do this together or we will fail. What you did was very foolish.” Jon also, normally very calm and soft spoken, appeared to be seething with barely controlled anger. “I am not sure if you are fully aware of what is at stake.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” He looked at Brienne who was still refusing to meet his gaze.

Her voice was stony and cold. “This is greater than us, Jaime. We can’t afford to make mistakes. Everything is riding on us. We can’t fail.”

“I KNOW, OK? I KNOW! DON’T YOU THINK I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT?” He was holding the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

This time she did look at him. She practically hissed, “Stop shouting. You have no right to be angry with me about this. You were the one who left on a suicide mission like some sort of Medieval Rambo. ARE YOU A FUCKING LUNATIC? DID SER JAIME’S MEMORIES FRY YOUR BRAIN?” She was angrier than he had ever seen her before, but instead of making him upset, it gave him hope. Anger that fierce could only be born out of hatred or intense fear. Brienne was afraid for him. No, she was terrified. She had said before she didn’t want to lose him, but now he dared to hope that perhaps the idea of losing him was as painful to her, as the idea of him having to live his life without her in it.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply but laced with deep affection.

Brienne physically deflated and said in her softest voice, almost a caress, “We have to do this together. Promise me. No matter what, we do this together?”

He nodded. “Together.”

They rode on in silence until they had reached the back of the hill. Jon tied the horses a ways off from the cave entrance. When he returned, he busied himself looking for the fuses buried deep in the snow. “Right, there are a series of these buried around this hill. Brienne, I need you to stand above the entrance just there, hidden behind that boulder. I will be out here just to your left. We can’t let him see us. Jaime, you must run into the cave as the Night King approaches and keep running, no matter what happens, no matter what you hear out hear please, just run. You must lure him into the cave and get him to leave his dragon behind. We will take care of the rest. “

Jaime huffed, “That’s it? That’s the whole plan?”

Exasperatedly Jon replied, “Do you have anything better? If we must, we will seal off the cave entrance by setting off this fuse here. However, if we do that….”

Jaime looked at them with steely determination, “Do it. It’s obviously the best option. I will lure him in and then, you seal both of us in there.”

“Jaime, no. We don’t have to do that. I won’t do that.” There was a frantic quality to her words.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Brienne, listen. I don’t want you worrying about me, alright? You have to fight off a fucking dragon. You just worry about staying alive. Jon will help you. If he knows we are locked in there, then he doesn’t have to worry about that fucker coming back out. He can focus on helping you.”

“So, what, I just have to let you die? Let you kill yourself for the greater good when there is another option?”

SHE WAS SO BLOODY STUBBORN! “Wench, you know what I am saying is true. Two skilled fighters against the ice dragon will be better than one. I have to be the one to kill this asshole. So, I am going to make sure I don’t fail. If he’s locked in there with me, it will be an assurance that he won’t escape before I’ve had my best shot.”

Jaime knew she could tell he wasn’t budging on this because her voice got tight but resigned, “Ok. But you fucking stay alive. You STAY ALIVE. I will come in there and find you once this is all done. Just…Just don’t die.”

Jaime smirked, “I wasn’t planning on it wench.” He felt his eyes burning when he said, “You stay alive too or I swear to The Seven, the Lord of Light, the Drowned god, the Many Faced god, and to the bloody god of Death himself, that I will force the Red Witch to reanimate your dead corpse. You hear me?” He winced through his stuttering laughter at the thought of Brienne being burnt to death.

She wrapped her arms around him and put her hand on his shoulder, but he could hear her smile as she said, “You are such a fucking idiot.” Her lips brushed his ear, soft and plush, sending a small shiver through him, “But you are _my_ fucking idiot. I love you Jaime.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Brienne.” He captured her mouth in a desperate kiss that spoke of promises they would both have trouble keeping.

* * *

Jon ignited a fuse that set off a series of unearthed Wild Fire pots by the far side of the hill. Jaime and Brienne heard them go off. The sound rattled the ground. Large green flames rose up and lapped the snowy hillside. The flames glowed for a long while before the heavy snow extinguished them.

When Jon returned, they all stood together and waited. They waited for what felt like an eternity before they heard a terrible shrieking sound.

Jon and Brienne hid for cover and Jaime stood his ground. The winged creature approached like a demon from the deepest depths of the seven hells. Its black wings were enormous and its eyes glowed with an eerie icy-blue light. It shrieked again and blue flames shot out of its mouth. Jaime’s fear threatened to overtake him as his knees quaked. _How on Earth is Brienne going to face this creature? _

Suddenly, he had an idea. Quickly, he ran to the foot of the cave. _Sorry Wench. _He grabbed the two Wild Fire pots there and tied the fuses together so that the length of them combined was roughly about 10 feet long. Then, he bound both pots to one end of the fuse. He held onto the torch with his left hand and grabbed the other end of the fuse with his right.

As the creature approached, he could see a tall white figure riding atop it. _Good. That means he can see me too._ Jaime quickly hid behind a boulder just outside the cave entrance.

The dragon came closer and started shooting blue flames in his direction. It screeched loudly. Jaime could feel his blood running cold. He gathered himself up to peek around the corner and saw that the rider had dismounted. The Night King had a white staff in his hands and was standing just to the right of the undead beast. The stench of rotting flesh permeated Jaime’s nostrils.

_Come on motherfucker. Move._

The Night King strode closer. Jaime didn’t believe in prayer but he prayed now. _Dear gods, please let this work. _

_Here’s your chance wench. _

Jaime stepped out from behind the boulder and left 2 feet of fuse dangling while he started to swing the rest in an arc over his head. He quickly lit the dangling part of the fuse with his torch before he let go and flung it through the air at the dragon.

It exploded with a loud “BOOM” and rained down green flames that enveloped the dragon’s flesh. The creature screeched loudly and Jaime pointedly looked up to where Brienne was hiding behind the boulder above him. Then, he took off running into the cave. 

* * *

_Jaime, what in the hells are you doing?_

Clearly, he had decided to alter the plan. She saw him light the fuse before launching the Wild Fire pots at the ice dragon. They exploded spectacularly midair. The green flames that cascaded down upon it appeared to be distracting the creature, annoying it, but not hurting it. She knew that the only thing that could kill it was their Valyrian steel blades.

The Night King was getting very close to Jaime. Her heart lurched for a moment and she felt ill.

Jaime looked up at her. She understood now. He was buying her time. She saw him run into the cave and the Night King followed close behind.

Brienne quickly scrabbled down the side of the hill with her sword in hand. She saw Jon go behind the dragon very slowly as it screeched, distracted by the flames enveloping its body. The dragon was shaking itself off vigorously and beating its wings into the snow. Soon, the flames would be out and the full force of the undead demon’s power would be trained on them.

She gathered up all her courage and ran at it full speed from its right side. Just as she was merely a few feet away, the dragon saw her, and turned its icy gaze upon her.

She ran faster as it began to open its mouth.

Jon plunged his sword into the dragon’s back left foot, in-between its claws, where the black scales were thinner. Brienne saw him shaking the blade back and forth as he stabbed it in further, but it did not seem to be penetrating far enough to get to the flesh underneath. He put all of his weight into it with a scream “BRIENNE! BRIENNE, THE EYE! GO FOR ITS EYE!”

She only had seconds to decide what to do. Without much thought, she jumped up onto the creature’s right wing, distracting it once again, just as it was about to spout flames in Jon’s direction. She ran up as far as she could and then climbed the scales until she was on its back. It started beating its wings, and again, she only had moments to decide what to do. She stabbed her sword into the dragon’s black rotting scales to anchor herself, and then, held on to the sword with her right hand while she used her left to climb the scales up the dragon’s neck, towards its head.

Jon took this opportunity to grab and relight his torch. He was using the flame to draw the dragon’s attention away from Brienne. Jon lowered the flame onto the parted scales of its left foot, where his sword had created a dent in the scaly armor. The creature screeched in pain. It shot blue flames in Jon’s direction. Brienne could not tell whether or not Jon had been hit.

She had to keep climbing. Her chest heaved with the exertion of her one-handed uphill ascent, up the back of the beast’s neck, and head. It was flapping both of its wings now, and she knew she only had moments before they would be in the air. She could see its left eye just about two arm lengths out of reach. Brienne pulled her sword out with her right and scrabbled to the left side of the beast’s head with her left arm.

Stab, slide left. Stab, slide left. Her arms were shaking due to holding up all of her weight. Her legs were dangling, failing to find appropriate footholds. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. The dragon lurched up, readying itself to lift up off the ground. She used this movement as the upward momentum she needed to pull her sword out and slide left one more time. Her right foot found purchase on a hard scale and she used all of her strength to slide left and plunge her sword in. Except this time, instead of plunging into a hard scale, she had found the soft, gelatinous, rotting flesh of its eye.

Brienne felt the creature begin to form a screech, but the sound never left its throat, as it shattered into a thousand shards of ice. She rolled and then fell about 15 feet. 

Her head hit the ground hard but the snow cushioned the impact. She was shaken, and felt her vision blur, but managed not to lose consciousness.

Jon was standing above her. “Brienne, you did it. YOU DID IT!”

Before she had time to feel relieved, she heard a whooshing sound accompanied by piercing screams. It was coming from the forest just south of where they stood.

“It’s the army of the dead! They’re coming! We don’t have much time.” He looked terrified.

Brienne grabbed his shoulder. “Jaime, we must help Jaime. It’s the only way to stop this!”

Jon appeared to think fast. “Brienne, go into the cave. Help Jaime. I will close the cave with the remaining Wild Fire. Run. We don’t have much time. They will be here soon. RUN!”

He gave her a quick hug before heading towards the side of the hill to retrieve the last of the Wild Fire. Brienne knew that she would never see him again. But she couldn’t help him now. She had to get to Jaime.

She quickly lit her torch with the last of the flint in her pocket and raced into the opening of the cave. Brienne ran several feet before she heard “BOOM!” and the cave shook behind her. She ran faster still as rocks tumbled down around her. She heard another “BOOM!” before the deafening sound of crashing rocks shook the cave. She lost her footing and bashed her forehead into the side of the cave wall. Blood was trickling down into her right eye but she didn’t have time to deal with that now.

Ahead of her, in the far distance, she heard a muffled groan.

_Jaime._

* * *

Jaime could feel the Night King walking swiftly behind him with unbelievably long strides. He felt the chill emanating from him seeping into his bones. He knew he had to keep going and lead him as far as possible into this cave. So, Jaime ran. He ran until his legs ached. He didn’t stop running until he heard the explosions and the loud unmistakable crash of a rock slide. The cave shook like a ship out at sea for a moment and Jaime almost lost his footing, but caught himself just in time.

However, the stumble was enough to bring the Night King within reach, and he stood just a few feet away from him. Jaime lifted his torch and shoved it into a deep crack in the cave wall beside him. He needed both of his hands.

The Night King got close enough for him to get his first good look at him. The undead king stood about 6’5” with broad shoulders, pale white skin, icy-blue deadened eyes, and a scaly ice-covered white face and scalp. He held an enormous white staff in his hands. He held the staff in front of him. Then, he began to twirl it at an impossibly fast speed.

Jaime got into his defensive stance and waited. They stared at each other for a long time. Jaime was not foolish enough to make the first move. The Night King began to circle him like a shark. Then, Jaime saw him smile, very slowly, before he leaned forward and blew out the torch with a deeply exhaled icy breath.

Jaime felt adrenaline shoot through him as the cave was shrouded in darkness. He felt all of his senses sharpen, and if Ser Jaime had been a less experienced fighter, surely he would have died, because it only took him a split second to react when he felt something move to his right. Jaime groaned loudly as he blocked the staff that was aimed at his chest with crushing force. 

He held the Night King off, but only had a moment to react before he felt another blow coming to claim him again. In this way, he blocked several assaults. He was finally able to retreat, but quickly, found himself up against the wall and swinging wildly, as unseen blow, after unseen blow rained down upon him. All it would take would be one false move, one mistake, one misperceived movement in the dark, for all of this to be over. He felt the weight of the world riding on his shoulders. He couldn’t lose. Yet, how could he possibly win?

Jaime was growing tired but the Night King showed no sign of slowing down or stopping. Jaime’s arms started to shake slightly and his breathing was becoming labored. He must hold on. Perhaps, if he held on, the Night King would give him an opportunity to strike back.

A soft glowing light started to come into view just behind where he assumed the Night King stood. It was climbing up the cave walls and appeared to be growing brighter. Then, the light filled the cave and he saw a figure rush towards them. 

The Night King jumped away and turned to the side to face the incoming figure and distance himself from Jaime’s sword.

_Brienne!_

She glanced at him and scanned him from head to toe, very quickly, likely in order to ascertain if he had sustained any injuries. However, she didn’t waste any time before putting her torch down on the ground and lunging towards the Night King with a mighty swing of her blade. He heard it clang against the other’s staff, before he himself jumped into action.

The Night King swung his staff left and right, blocking each of their swords with ease. Brienne and Jaime stood side-by-side. They lunged and retreated together, as if made of one flesh and one mind. They fought for a long time this way but did not appear to be making any headway, still on the defensive. At some point, they would both grow tired, and the Night King never would.

Brienne glanced at Jaime and nodded briefly, before throwing herself on the ground, and swinging her blade at the Night Kings legs. Jaime cursed under his breath as the Night King retreated and brought his staff straight down towards Brienne’s head. Brienne deftly rolled away, just as the staff crashed into the ground beside her. There was a mere few seconds, before the Night King raised his staff back up, wherein he had left his neck and head exposed, open for attack. With a speed born out of sheer skill, one that no other swordsman had ever achieved, Jaime lunged forward, and his sword made contact. Jaime stabbed his sword down hard into the Night King’s face. There was a deafening screech before the Night King shattered into tiny slivers of ice that pooled at their feet.

Jaime fell to his knees beside Brienne and hugged her before sitting back up so he could see her face. “You bloody, stubborn, foolish, crazy, wench! Oh gods, I love you so much. You could have been killed. Is it so easy to throw your life away? You almost died!”

Her beautiful blue eyes bore into his. She grabbed onto the front of his tunic and balled it up with her fist, before tugging on it and pulling him forward. “No, I had faith in you. You saved me. You saved all of us. Just like I knew you would.”

He placed both of his hands on the sides of her head and kissed her, drank from her like a dying man taking his first sip of water in a scorching desert. Brienne put her arms around his neck and held on. Jaime had a strange sensation course through him as Ser Jaime responded to Brienne’s kiss. It felt a lot like relief and happiness. No, it felt like peace, like coming home to a warm bed, like seeing the first rays of sunlight after a long night. 


	12. The Cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this one was too much fun.

They manage to drag their very sore, and tired, bodies back to the cave’s entrance to confirm that, in fact, it is completely sealed. 

Jaime sits down with an anguished and exhausted groan. He notices Brienne wince, as she splays out on the ground next to him, and leans on the wall, heavily.

He takes the torch from her and places it in-between two fallen boulders, next to the wall, just above their heads. The light reveals several cuts and bruises on Brienne’s face and hands. Jaime moves the cloak off of her shoulders and notices some deep gashes in her tunic and breeches. Some of them are stained with blood. “I guess this is why they wore armor back then, huh? Do they hurt a lot?”

Brienne shrugs her shoulders. He coaxes her to look at him, with gentle hands, on the sides of her face. Her eyes are so blue and sparkling.

_In this light she looks like a beauty. In this light she looks like a knight._

“You are wrong, you know. “

“Hmmm” She says absently, as her hand comes up and she runs it gently through his beard, sending a pleasantly warm glow through him when he realizes this is the first time that she has ever touched him this way. 

“You said I saved you. But actually, you saved _me_. If you hadn’t come in here after me, like the stubborn wench that you are, I would have died.” He rips the hemline of his tunic and uses the strip of cloth to wipe away some of the blood on her forehead and cheeks.

She shakes her head. “No, _you _saved _me_. If you hadn’t bought me time, with that insane Wild Fire move, I could never have gotten close enough to kill the dragon.”

Jaime stills his hand, just above the deep gash on her left cheek, and stares at her in awe. “Holy fuck! You killed a gods-damned dragon, Brienne! You’re not just a warrior; you’re like a mythical being, a goddess, a freaking honest-to-gods superhero. They are going to write songs about you, you know.”

She chuckles and shakes her head again. “Well, I didn’t do it on my own. Jon was there to help me. If he hadn’t distracted it, I could have never climbed up high enough, in time to stab…”

“Wait, stop. You _climbed_ the dragon?” His mouth hangs wide open, gaping like a fish.

“Yeah, how else was I supposed to stab it in the eye? That fucker’s scales were so thick, our swords just could not penetrate them. It was Jon’s idea to go for the eye. The dragon shattered into a million pieces. The fall hurt like all seven hells, though!” She touches the back of her head and winces.

“Lean forward. Let me see.” Jaime places his left hand on the nape of her neck and uses it to steer her head towards him, and onto his chest, so that he can look at the back of it. He softly, parts her hair, and feels her scalp tenderly with his fingertips. She winces a little when he finds the egg-sized bump. “Sorry. You probably have a concussion. Is your vision blurry? Do you have a headache?”

Brienne shakes her head, ever so slightly, and burrows it further into his chest. He wraps his left arm around her and pulls her in closer still. “Guess we saved each other.”

She nods, her hand is grazing over his chest, absently. His heart beats faster. His breath quickens.

Brienne loosens the laces of his woolen tunic, slowly. She runs a finger along the hair in the V of his neckline.

Jaime hisses. Her hand stills at the sound.

“Don’t stop.” His voice is low and gravely.

She lifts her head, and looks up at him shyly. Then, her look becomes heated and languorous. Her fingers slowly pry his tunic further apart, and she presses her deliciously soft lips to his collarbone. Her lips part, and she grazes her tongue, slowly, up his neck, as she straddles his hips.

He pulls her further down, firmly onto his lap, so she can feel how much he likes what she is doing to him.

She locks her strong thighs around his hips and grinds down.

Her hands pull up on his cloak, and her fingers, fumble with the clasp. He hears it snap open, as she pulls it, roughly, off of his shoulders. Brienne’s mouth suckles on the exposed flesh of his shoulder, as she pulls the fabric of his tunic to the side, deftly, with strong determined fingers.

Desire courses through him at her uninhibited exploration of his body. Brienne has always held back, reserved, and cautious. This is entirely new, and it is taking him to the edge of reason.

Her mouth is hot, and her teeth nip at the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. He groans loudly. “Where have _you_ been? Gods, Brienne.” He grabs her face and kisses her hard. He parts her lips with his tongue, and slides it in, to rub vigorously against hers.

She shifts her hips, and he grabs her ass, so that he can bring it down more firmly where he needs it. His cock is achingly hard. 

She moans, and starts writhing frantically on top of him, rolling her hips, as his tongue penetrates her, the way his cock seeks to do. “Fuck. You’re killing me. If you keep this up, I won’t be able to stop. Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t.” She looks into his eyes, all innocence _and_ desire.

_How does she do that?_

“Brienne, we’re in a cave.” 

She shakes her head. “I don’t care. I want to feel you inside me.”

Her words send a flood of heat into his cock, and it strains, painfully, in his breeches. Whatever sense of propriety he had about protecting her maidenly virtue, it is now gone. He growls like a feral beast, as he thrusts his hips up. Frantically he places his mouth on hers, and then, trails it down her chin, and over her neck, wanting to taste every inch of her.

When he reaches the clasp of her cloak, he pushes her back so he can unfasten it. Pushing the cloak down off of her, with a flick of his wrists, he sends it cascading onto the ground behind her, like a parachute.

She fumbles a bit, before she is able to unlace her tunic. Their hands touch as they both reach for the hemline. He grabs it and lifts it slowly up, and over her head, careful not to scrape her lacerations with it. “Some of these are still fresh.”

He quickly removes his tunic, and uses it to pat down the cuts, gently. He rips another strip off of it, and ties it around her waist, where one of the cuts is particularly nasty, and will need stitches. The knowledge of how battered her body is coupled with his need to proetct her, desperately wars with his desire to fuck her senseless. “Brienne, you’re hurt. We can do this another time.”

“Jaime, I love you. We may not get out of here. Our torch will go out soon. This could be our only chance. I need you. Please.” He can see the desperation in her own eyes, the need for human contact, comfort, and in particular, his touch. They have survived the impossible, and yet, here they are, perhaps trapped forever. He sees something else in those eyes too that solidifies his resolve.

“I love you so much, Brienne.” He leans forward and kisses her, gently pushing her back until he is leaning over her. He places his hands on her back, and lowers her slowly onto her cloak. She lays there looking at him with such trust, and he's reminded that, although all he wants to do is ravish her, he has to go slow. 

He leans down and puts his mouth on her nipple, suckling it, until it puckers for him. He rolls the other with his left hand, and pinches it until she moans in his mouth, a deep moan that drives him mad with desire.

He looks into her eyes, as he lowers his hand to the strings on her breeches and unties them. He grabs her hips and tugs her breeches off of her, as slowly as he can make himself, in his desperation to touch her. She lifts her hips up and pulls off her small-clothes, quickly.

He smiles at her and lets out a little chuckle. “Eager are we?”

She lifts her left foot to kick his chest, and he grabs it, pulling it up and over his left shoulder, so her hips are off the ground and where he wants them. He presses kisses down her inner thighs until he reaches her cunt. Her skin is achingly soft.

He hears Brienne squeak in anticipation, when his beard brushes the sensitive nub of her clit. She is glistening and he can’t wait to taste her.

Jaime tongues her clit, looking up to smile at her when her hand shoots out to grab onto her cloak. She is fisting it tight. He dives back in and laps at her until he hears her moans turn into screams, “Jaime. Oh, gods…”

She is writhing around, frantically thrusting her hips up, to meet his mouth. Brienne grabs the back of his head and pulls his hair, hard. She lets out a guttural scream with her release.

He lowers her leg and hips back down. His eyes drink her in. She is flushed and splayed before him. Sweat is glistening on her chest and rivlets are rolling down onto her stomach. 

He leans down to lick them, and follows the trail upward, until he meets her mouth.

He kisses her, deeply, and she makes incoherent mewling sounds.

Brienne pulls away to look into his eyes. “I want to feel you.”

Jaime is still on his knees, so she sits up on her left elbow, and with her right hand she maps out every inch of his chest and arms, leaving a blaze of heat wherever her fingers touch. “You are so beautiful, Jaime. I am so lucky.”

His heart pumps hard in his chest. “Not as lucky as I am. You're prefect.”

She smiles shyly at him and bites her bottom lip. Her eyes roam down his chest to his stomach, before she gathers enough courage to place her hands on the waist of his breeches. She traces the lines of his exposed pelvic bones with a gentle caress that makes him arch with anticipation. “I’ve wanted to touch you here since that day on the track.”

Her expression turns mischievous as she pulls her lip further into her mouth, and slips her right hand inside his breeches to grip him, firmly. “And here.” 

“Fuck.” He pulls them down, desperate to be free of the constraining cloth. He leans down over her again, until her thighs are cradling his hips. He holds himself up, both palms on opposite sides of her body, careful not to press his chest down on her wounds.

Brienne leans into his kiss. He cups her sex and places a finger between her folds. Trailing his index finger up and down her seam, he makes her cry out. Then, he plunges it inside of her. He moves it in and out, drawing out her pleasure. When her hips begin to move with him, he puts his middle finger inside of her too, feeling her stretch and clench down. “You are so tight. So wet.”

“Please...” Her voice is dripping with want.

"What do you want Brienne? Tell me." He needs to hear her say it.

"I want you inside me...Please..."

A shiver goes down his spine. He positions his cock at her entrance and slowly, begins to inch it in, gritting his teeth._ She feels fucking amazing_. He looks into her eyes for reassurance. She squirms beneath him, impatiently, and then, she lifts her hips, and plunges the rest of him inside of her in one hard thrust. _FUCK! _He moans so loud that his throat hurts. She waits a moment, letting out a small gasp, before rolling her hips under him.

“Fuck. My wanton wench.”

He pulls on her hips to set the pace. He thrusts into her slowly, but Brienne keeps rising up to meet him with ever faster thrusts, until he loses control and pushes himself deep inside of her. He is fucking her so hard that he would be worried he might be hurting her, if it weren't for the fact that her legs are wrapped around him tightly, encouraging him to push in deeper with each thrust.

“Yes! Harder Jaime, please. Gods!”

Their bodies are dripping with sweat and making slapping sounds as they meet. It is dirty, and rough, and deliciously perfect.

Jaime had meant to take things nice and slow, but there was no way he could deny Brienne what she wanted, what he desperately needed.

He is going to come soon, this feels too good. He rubs the nub of her clit as he pumps into her, getting her closer, until she shudders and screams beneath him.

He sees stars, as his vision narrows, and his hearing goes muffled. He comes harder than he has ever come in his life.

Jaime manages to pull out just in time, spilling on her stomach.

He collapses next to her, pulling his cloak over them.

She's panting heavily and has an arm draped over her eyes.

Brienne chuckles, and he is about to ask her what is so funny, when she says, “Wow. Is it always like this?”

It's his turn to laugh, and he sounds spent when he says, “Nope. Not even close." His breathing is still very ragged. "But I really hope we don’t die in this cave, because I want to do that every chance we get for the next, oh, 80 years, at least.” He wraps his arm around her, possesively.

She lays her head on his chest. “Me too. We still have some light left in here. Want to go again, to, you know, stay warm?”

He laughs out loud. “See, I knew you were a wench. _My_ _wanton_ wench, it would be my pleasure."


	13. For Who Could Ever Learn to Love a Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to miss these two fools SO MUCH. Thanks for reading, ya'll.

Their torch had long ago gone out. It was dark and quiet. She was sitting nestled between Jaime’s legs with her head pressed against his chest. He was sitting with his back to the wall, head directly above hers, breathing softly into her ear. Perhaps, he had fallen asleep again.

Their cloaks were draped around them, like a cocoon. Brienne pulled them up further to make sure they were covering Jaime’s shoulders.

“Wench, do you think anyone is coming for us? It’s been…a while.” His voice sounded groggy.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Uh, I hope so.” Her own voice sounded hoarse. She needed water.

“I mean, we could try to find another way out. Stick close to the walls and take it slow. Maybe, we’ll get lucky.” She felt him drop his chin onto her shoulder and nuzzle her neck. “Not that I particularly mind dying here like this with you. If I had to choose a way to go, I would want to die in the arms of the woman I love. But, I’d rather we live.”

She had thought about their options and none of them were good. “I think we should stay here for a while longer. If no one comes for us we have to try to find another way out, or at least hope we find some water. “

“Sounds good.”

They were silent again for some time. Brienne felt warm and safe, but her ever-worsening thirst had started to make little pinpricks of panic flare up in her gut. She thought about all the things she wanted to do with her life and how unfair it was for her to die just when she had found love. Melancholy thoughts about not being able to go to college, get married, or have children began to flood her eyes with tears, when she felt Jaime’s shoulders shaking behind her.

_Is he crying? _

He started making heh, heh, heh, sounds that sounded a lot like…”Are you laughing?”

Rumbles of unmistakable laughter made his chest rise and fall. “Oh, I was just thinking about...about how Ser Jaime finally got to bone his lady love. I mean, the blue balls on this guy after YEARSSSSS of pining and sexual tension. I thought I had it bad.”

Brienne slaps his leg. “Why are you the way you are? That is so creepy.”

“Creepier than being forever stuck with the memories of him fucking Cersei?” He shuddered.

“Ughhhh! STOP!” She put her hand over his mouth and he started laughing again.

“I needed to share. I am traumatized here. I can never _unsee_ that.” His laughter began to take on a manic quality that almost sounded like he could break into tears at any moment.

“I would make a therapy appointment for you, when we get back, but they will lock you away for sure.”

The unspoken reality hung in the air, ominously. _If, we get back._

“I think we should let Brienne and Ser Jaime go. Release them, so they can be at peace.”

“Great idea, wench. How do we do that? I tried saying, ‘Fuck off dead guy’ in my head, but he’s still there.”

“The Red Witch said we had to expel them. So, that sounds like we have to _force_ them out, mentally. Alright, go!” She held onto his hand and clamped down telling Lady Brienne to ‘_Please. Leave. NOW.’ _in her head, as emphatically as she could muster it.

She felt Jaime’s shoulders shaking again. “Stop laughing, you fool! You are breaking my concentration!”

He was laughing so hard that he started to wheeze. “I’m sorry. This is all just so fucking ridiculous. I can’t…”

His laughter was infectious and she found herself laughing too, and for the moment, the anxiety in the pit of her stomach dissipated.

In between peals of laughter he managed to squeal, “You were…. just…concentrating…so … hard!…How did… she…. die… young man?...Oh,….She… had ….an aneurysm…. expelling…a …2,000 year… old…dead…identical…looking….ancestor….”

She was laughing so hard her sides hurt. “Stop….stop….I can’t…breathe…”

That’s when they heard, “JAIME? BRIENNE? IS THAT YOU IN THERE?” coming from the top of the cave’s entrance, just beyond the boulders there.

They both had to work to catch their breaths before Brienne could respond with relief and joy sprouting from her like a fountain. “YES! YES! WE’RE HERE!”

“IT’S ME, TYRION!”

“HEY, BRO! CAN YOU GET US OUT OF HERE?” Jaime also sounded jubilant.

“BRAN IS WORKING ON IT! HE SAYS TO FIND THE WEIRWOOD ROOTS DOWN THERE. HE IS SENDING YOU BACK!”

_Back. To their time. Home. They were going home._

“OK! HOW DO WE FIND THEM? WE ARE IN THE DARK!” Brienne said, thinking about how hard it would be to find roots in the dark.

“JUST GO DOWN THE CAVE A BIT. BRAN SAID YOU’LL BE ABLE TO SEE THEM!”

“OK!” They both shouted.

“OH, AND BY THE WAY, THANKS FOR SAVING THE WORLD!”

Brienne hugged Jaime tight to her chest. “Jaime, we’re going home.”

He sounded just as relieved as she was, “Yes, thank the gods.”

“You mean, thank Bran.”

“Same difference.”

“OK, TYRION. WE ARE GOING TO FIND THEM NOW. THANKS FOR DRAGGING US BACK IN TIME AND LAYING THE FATE OF THE WORLD ON OUR SHOULDERS _AND_ FOR BEING AN ENORMOUS DRUNKEN CUNT!” Jaime’s mirth was a little more subdued this time.

“SEVEN BLESSINGS!” Tyrion shouted, and she pictured him toasting them with a goblet of wine.

“BY THE WAY, NO ONE’S EVER SAID I WAS ENORMOUS BEFORE! WELL ACTUALLY, THERE WAS THAT WHORE IN KING’S LANDING AND THE ONE IN BRAVOS BUT, I DIGRESS…SAFE TRAVELS AND GOOD LUCK!”

“BYE TYRION!” Brienne thought about telling Tyrion to say goodbye to Jon and Sansa for her, but was afraid to mention their names, because she would rather leave this world not knowing that something horrible had happened to them.

Brienne held onto Jaime’s hand as they made their way slowly through the cave, patting the walls as they went, using them as a reference point. They were walking for several minutes before they noticed the cave walls up ahead were emitting a faint glow.

“That has to be them, Jaime. Those are the weirwood roots. It’s the portal.”

He squeezed her hand tight. “Are you ready?”

She nodded before she realized he couldn’t really see her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Her voice quivered.

“If I remember correctly, that shit was painful last time. Let’s just run for it.”

“Ok.”

“Alright, on the count of three. One….Two….Three…”

She heard the deafening waves as she ran closer. Her hearing went muffled. There was pressure in her head. She lost her vision. She touched the roots and there was excruciating pain. And then, there was nothing.

* * *

When she regained her sense of self, all she could see was darkness.

_Did I really die this time? _

Then, she heard his voice. “Brienne? Brienne? Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here” she croaked.

“We must still be in the caves.”

“Their caves or our caves?”, she said with fear creeping up her spine.

“Only one way to find out.”

They went back out of the caves much the same way they had gone down into them. Except this time, instead of walking into darkness, they were walking towards the light.

“It’s open! Thank the gods it’s open! We must be home!” Jaime said as they sprinted towards the exit.

“No snow! There’s no snow!”, Brienne said at the same time as Jaime proclaimed, “It’s the sun! I’ve never been so happy to see the motherfucking sun in my entire life! WOOOO!”

Then, they both dropped down into the fall leaves and grass, rolling around in it like two fools, drunk on sunlight. Their tumbling romp ended with them being tangled up together, an entwined mass of arms, and legs, and frantic roving lips.

When they parted, they were both panting heavily, flat on their backs, and smiling up at the rays of sunlight as they peeked through the tree branches. “Guess we should start walking back towards civilization.” Jaime said breathlessly.

“Jaime, did it really happen? Will we look back years from now and convince ourselves that it wasn’t real?”

“Not as long as you and I have these. Check it out!” He unsheathed Widow’s Wail and used it to point at Oathkeeper, which was still resting in the scabbard, securely bound to her waist.

“What will we tell people when they ask?”

“We’re definitely not telling them the truth, that’s for sure. I’ll come up with something.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at him. “I’m sure you will. But will I like it?”

Jaime chuckled, “Probably not.”

* * *

They had been walking for a few hours when Brienne said, “Jaime, I just realized that she’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Lady Brienne. I haven’t felt her presence at all since we got back. Is Ser Jaime gone too?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thank the gods. That man was so depressing with all of his guilt and self-loathing. I _am_ sad to lose his sword-fighting skills though. Maybe, I still remember enough to beat _you_!” His eyes were sparkling green and his smile was all gleaming white teeth. She could not resist him when he was like this.

“Is that a challenge?” She smirked at him.

“Hells yes! Let’s dance, my lady.”

* * *

“The sun is setting, wench. We should find a place to hunker down for the night. Good thing we still have these cloaks, it’s getting cold out here.”

“Yeah, I feel exhausted. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ felt _this_ tired.” She yawned and her jaw cracked. Her bones were aching and her limbs felt very heavy. Her eyes were burning. She just wanted to lie down and close them.

They walked another mile or so before she stumbled and almost fell flat on her face. Her legs felt too heavy to lift. Jaime grabbed her arm and steadied her.

“Whoa wench. I think we should stop. You look like you’re about to drop. I see a log over there for you to sit on while I gather up some leaves and make us a nice itchy bed.”

Jaime must have expected her to argue because his brows furrowed when she said, “Ok.” Her voice sounded weak and lifeless.

She sat down, hard. Her head was spinning and she realized they hadn’t eaten anything in over a day. The wind blew and her body shivered uncontrollably. She could feel her teeth chattering. Her eyes were burning and watery. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Are you cold, wench? Come here. I’ll keep you warm.” Jaime sat on the bed of leaves and she slumped down next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She put her head on his shoulder as he put his cheek on her forehead. “Holy shit! You feel hot!” He quickly lifted his head and pressed the back of his hand to her cheeks and forehead. “Brienne, you’re burning up. You’ve got a fever.” He started pulling up her tunic. “Let me see something.” Then, she heard him curse under his breath, “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” She could hear how weak and flat her voice sounded. Her head felt like it was floating and her thoughts were hazy.

“Some of those lacerations look pretty red and nasty. I think they may be infected. Don’t worry. We’ll get you to a doctor. Some antibiotics will clear them right up.” Even in her fevered state, she could tell that he was worried, despite his words of reassurance.

Jaime laid her down next to him. He put his cloak underneath them and put her cloak on top, as a cover. They were pressed together closely. Instantly, she fell asleep.

Brienne felt herself tossing and turning. She was so cold. Her hands and feet had gone numb. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name but she couldn’t speak. Her tongue felt so heavy in her mouth. Restless sleep claimed her. Her dreams were torturous.

* * *

The last thing she remembered thinking, before waking up in the hospital room, was that she wished she could sit up properly, because it had felt like the whole world was upside down.

Brienne looked down at herself and saw that there was an IV in her arm. There was also a blood pressure cuff, which was inflating and deflating, periodically. It took all of her strength to turn her head. On the other side of her bed, Jaime had fallen asleep in his chair with his hand on hers. She wiggled her fingers a bit and his eyes opened.

“Hey there. How do you feel?” He held her hand up and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Like a bus hit me.” Her voice was hoarse and her throat felt dry. “Can I have some water, please?”

“Sure, I’ll get you some.”

While he was gone, she tried to rack her brain for information, in order to piece together what had happened. Slowly, a few things started coming back to her, but she still couldn’t sort out the dreams from reality.

Jaime came in with water and a huge smile. She had a few sips and said, “I had the weirdest dreams.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I dreamt that you and I went back in time, and that we were possessed by the spirits of our medieval doppelgangers, and then…”

“You killed an ice dragon and helped me defeat the Night King.” He was smirking at her.

“Yeah, how did you…”

“And don’t forget our time in the caves. I mean, I KNOW there’s no way you can forget _that_” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Let’s see, and then we traveled back to our time and I beat you in a sword fight…”

“All that’s real? Wait, I remember the sword fight part differently. I could have sworn that I beat _you_.”

“Easy mistake to make. You were so feverish, how could you possibly remember…” His smirk was getting wider.

“Oh no, now, I _distinctly_ remembering beating you with my sword…Oathkeeper, right? What I _don’t _remember is what happened after that?” She looked at him hoping for some clarity.

“Your wounds got infected. You had sepsis. You couldn’t walk. I had to carry you to the nearest cabin and the people there helped me get you to the hospital. You were very sick, wench. We almost lost you.” He looked haunted by the idea.

“Wait, you carried me all that way?” She was having a hard time picturing it.

His laugh came in an incredulous burst. “That’s the part you choose to focus on? I keep telling you that I AM STRONG ENOUGH TO HANDLE YOU!”

“Is that why I was upside down?” _Two can play this game, Lannister._

“Well, I had to do a fireman’s carry, it _was_ quite a long walk, but I _carried_ you none-the-less!” He looked slightly offended, but mostly, amused.

She smacked his hand. “You are _such an IDIOT!”_

“Ah, it’s so good to have you back, wench. You know, for someone who was always worried that I would leave _her_, you sure have found a lot of ways to, constantly, try and leave _me_. You’re not going to run out of this room are you? Ghost me when we get back to school?” He was definitely laughing at her now.

“Oh gods, what did you tell everyone about where we were? How long were we gone anyway?” Her head hurt just thinking about all of the lies Jaime would have had to spin.

“We were gone 34 days. They thought we were dead. Apparently, they searched for us night and day for about 2 weeks, before they scaled it back. The people in the cabin recognized us right away from our missing person’s posters.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “So, I had to think fast. I told them that we had run away together. That I convinced you to go on a camping trip through the Riverlands with me. And that it had all gone wrong when you fell down a ravine. I rescued you, of course, but your wounds got infected. No one believes a word of this to be true, but I just keep repeating the same story over and over. Expect the police to come in here to talk to you soon. If you don’t back me up on this, your dad is ready to put me in prison.” Jaime actually looked worried.

“I’m sure _your_ dad can get you out. He’s got enough money and power.”

“Well, in case he can’t, can you promise me that there will be conjugal visits?”

They both laughed when she said, “IDIOT!”

* * *

She’s getting used to all the stares. People can’t quite come to terms with the fact that she and Jaime are _actually _together. Somedays, she can’t quite believe it herself. Except that they _are_ together. ALL. OF. THE. TIME. Sansa giggles and Robb snorts, whenever they see the two of them holding hands in the halls, or kissing after school. Brienne doesn’t even mind that Cersei continues to try and spread vicious rumors about her, whenever she gets the chance. Truth be told, Brienne has come to pity her. She has also come to realize that the bullies have no power over her, if she doesn’t buy into what they say. I mean, sure, she’s still not conventionally attractive, and she never will be. She’s still very tall, her nose is still crooked, her body is still much bigger and stronger than most people’s, male or female, but those things don’t really bother her now.

She fought and slew a dragon. She helped Jaime defeat the Night King. She helped convince one of the most charming, witty, and beautiful men that walk the Earth, that he is honorable and worthy of love. Most importantly, she taught herself that _she _is worthy of love, and that happiness can only be achieved, when we allow others to love us the way we deserve to be loved.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s always the shy ones. 😉


End file.
